#currently have a stuffy nose and it is so not fun

[bunicate]

Alhaitham making his little sister ride her stuffed toy for him! grinding her pussy on one of her favourites as she whines about how it’s gonna ruin her favourite stuffie!

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི incest. infantilization. handjob. brief blowjob. pillow humping ﾉ 18+

“this is so unfair .”

you’d cross your arms if they weren’t currently occupied. reluctantly, one hand knits into the bedsheets to keep yourself in place. the other commits to slow sensual strokes of his cock, timed with the messy ruts of your pussy, defacing the once pale pink bunny.

the innocent stuffed animal with beady eyes, now the color of mulberry from your arousal, was ruined. if you didn’t know your big brother so well, you’d easily miss the subtle flicker of mirth in his blue-green eyes.

“how is it unfair? I'm playing with you just as you asked.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but its merely an undignified expression when the stuffed bunny's hard nose pokes your clit.

“t-this is not — hmmph— what I meant.”

his eyes lower and the side of his lip upturns. it’s not audible, but he’s laughing at you. you’re certain of it, and his cock only hardens in your grasp.

“y’got me ruining mr.cuddles. . .” you grumble.

“I can buy you another.”

a curse dies on the tip of your tongue just as frustration settles from his retort. the last thing you want is to add to your torment. as promising as it could be, al haitham had an immeasurable amount of self-control.

he’d wring your little cunt dry, and you don’t think you could handle much more of his teasing, but god, the poor creature was soiled.

you know how much embarrassing you arouses him and you sure don’t miss the pre-cum that deliciously clumps at the tip of his member. you know it’s at your expense because he throbs within your palm.

his fingers, veiny and all encompassing, cup the back of your head, slightly tugging at the roots of your hair.

it doesn’t hurt, but there’s enough pressure to signal his intolerance of your potential defiance.

“enlighten me. tell me what you meant.”

your head lolls back, staring at the scribe with tears blurring your vision. you thumb his tip and whine when you feel a dollop of his warm seed land on your thigh.

“when you told me you wanted to play, let me guess . . . did you mean on . . . my cock ?” 

theres a swirl of something you can only describe as unadulterated desperation at his show of mockery. there’s a sardonic glint as he soaks in how pretty you look jerking him off.

you nod stiffly. “u-uh huh.”

but he only feigns pity.

“that’s too bad, isn’t it ?” he reaches down to grip your backside. he lifts you slightly and sees crystal strings of wetness connecting from your cunt to poor mr.cuddles.

“look at that mess,” the scribe whispers, and that only fuels your need to bury yourself under your sheets.

“this isn’t what you wanted and yet, you’re dripping . . .” he shakes his in farce disappointment, “but nevertheless, let’s problem solve.”

he lets go of you to stop your hand from stroking his leaking member.

he firmly grabs himself, pumping his swollen cock slowly — roughly, until a pretty coat of pre-cum envelops his tip.

he points his throbbing appendage towards your mouth, pressing it towards your quivering lips. he wipes his head messily around the surface until trails of slick begins to glisten.

you physically resist the urge to suck and swallow even when the faint taste of salt drips on your tongue.

there’s a deep hum when you meet his wanton stare.

“would you have more fun if I put my cock in your little mouth instead ?”

you mewl. god, you can smell him. it’s a rich and musky scent mingled with a woodsy vanilla.

your mouth collects spit as he continues to drag his fat tip down the seam of your plump lips.

his cock is just as pretty as the rest of him. it’s wide with an odd number of veins running down his length. it wilts from its own weight despite being so hard.

his eyes glaze over, chuckling before he answers for you, “yeah, of course you would,” he murmurs. “you’d suck it just like how you suck those lollipops.”

al haitham rubs at your scalp, dragging your head so his member slides against the opening of your mouth. by now, you’re panting like needy pup with your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock.

“what if —“ his eyes flicker down to between your thighs, “I put it right here ?”

his fingers skillfully slide past your overstimulated clit to nestle in your little hole. you breathe out a loud sigh of relief when they slowly sink in, stretching your tight walls.

“h-haithy. . .” your mouth parts as meek cries fall from your sweet lips, breath fanning his dick.

“oh, what cute sounds. is this what you want ?”

“mhm. . . I dooooo,” you drawl.

your hand tangles around his wrist. it was a brave action, but he didn’t seem to mind. you were insatiable at this point as you unabashedly hump his thick fingers, chasing your own pleasure.

“I wan’ it, h-haithy. need your cock inside me.”

slick sticks to your thighs and your cunt audibly squeezes around his digits until he suddenly halts his movement.

“what do you do when you want something ?”

you sniffle, “u-use my big girl words.”

al haitham gives you a subtle look of approval.

“precisely.”

he falls silent, giving you a chance to speak but you remain hushed at first. rather, you’d let your actions allow him to draw his own conclusions.

you pull away to position yourself on your back, his fingers slipping out of your warmth.

he watches you closely, anticipating your next move.

your arms come behind your knees, revealing both of your pretty holes. delicate fingers part your puffy folds like pages of his books, displaying the gaping hole he was moments away from fucking.

with pursed lips and gleaming eyes, you ask just like how he taught you.

“big brother . . . can you please make me cum on your cock ?”

your tight pussy clenches around nothing, pushing out a stringy rivulet of creamy white.

there’s a crack in his composure.

al haitham effortlessly pulls his shirt over his head. his strong abdomen on display flexes with every breath he takes. it’s intimidating how stalks towards you, inching towards the bed with purpose.

he’s eager to mount you, his sweet little sister with a perfect ass, and a fat wet cunt he’d milk over and over again.

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #tw:incest #srry Im so bad at endings eeeek #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #al haitham x y/n #alhaitham x female reader #alhaitham x reader smut #al haitham x reader smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham x you #alhaitham x reader

[supernovafics]

Hi! I recently found your "I'll be there for you" universe and I love it.

I was wondering if you'd want to do a sick fic where reader gets a sudden fever/body aches/chills/so on and tries to shrug it off as no big deal even though it absolutely is and Steve, the ultimate caretaker he is, forgets all about his plans for the evening to stay in and take care of them. Thank you, have a great week!

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.7k words

warnings: explicit language, descriptions of sickness/being sick, brief mentions of parental neglect, mentions of weed, overall very soft and wholesome and cozy<3

summary: in which you and steve are sick on christmas 

author's note: thank u for the request !! when i started this series one of the first ideas i had was something where reader and steve are sick during the holidays so this request fit with that perfectly<33 i couldn't really figure out how to end this so it kinda just ends lmao

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1985

“This is your fault,” You told Steve as you sniffled.

“I know, I know,” He responded— he had been hearing your grumbling from the moment you woke up, so he was pretty much used to it by now. He walked over to where you were sitting on the couch and held out a capful of cough syrup for you to grab. “Here. Take this.” 

“Thank you,” You mumbled as you drank the medicine and then immediately went to grab your glass of water sitting on the coffee table because of how strong and bitter the cherry flavoring was. “Ugh.”

You now fully regretted that moment a few nights ago where you and Steve sat out on the fire escape and smoked weed in the freezing weather; an idea that had fully been Steve’s. It was fun in the moment, even though you could barely remember most of the conversation the two of you had, but a hint of a cold started building from the second you woke up that next morning and now it was at its worst. You currently had a stuffy nose and a horrible cough that gave you the shittiest headache. And after hours of laying in your bed and falling in and out of sleep, you finally decided to go out into the living room and complain to your best friend about how much you blamed him for your current sickness. 

“Can you pass me the blanket, please?” You asked, pointing to the one that was laying on the back of one of the dining table chairs; it was barely five feet away but you didn’t have it in you to move out of the comfortable position you found yourself in on the couch. 

“You become such a baby when you’re sick,” Steve told you with a roll of his eyes that you knew wasn’t serious as he handed you the knitted throw blanket, which you immediately wrapped around yourself after putting your water back down.

“Oh, whatever. I swear you’re always worse than me,” You said with your own eye roll; if he was closer to you, you would’ve given his arm a light smack. Your gaze moved upward, taking note of the time on the clock that hung on the wall above the television; it was a small round red clock that Steve had thrifted a few months ago. “Anyway, when are you heading to the Wheeler’s Christmas Eve party? Make sure you have fun for the both of us, and bring me back some of those gingerbread cookies that Karen makes.”

Steve sat next to you on the couch. “I’m not gonna go to the party.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in both surprise and confusion when you heard him say that because he loved going to that holiday party just as much as you did. All of the kids would be there as well as Robin and Eddie, and always at some point during the night, you all would end up migrating downstairs to the basement away from the real adults. The kids and Eddie would start playing D&D as you, Robin, and Steve sat on the sidelines watching the madness unfold. And then eventually the three of you would simply start playing random card games with Nancy and Jonathan. 

“I won’t be mad if you go. Jokingly, yes— I’ll probably pretend to be mad at you for going for the next few days. But, I’m not actually,” You told him and then sniffled again because you couldn’t help it.

“No, it’s okay,” He said as he leaned back on the couch. “I don’t wanna go without you.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, well, in that case,” You scooted closer to him on the couch and leaned your head on his shoulder. It was a position that never failed to comfort you, and you especially needed that in this moment where your body was telling you that you needed to sleep and the cough syrup you just took was making it easier to do so. “Thank you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You weren’t entirely sure how or when you ended up in your bed, but you were happy about it. It was now dark outside and the digital clock sitting on your nightstand told you that the time was only nine o’clock. 

You turned on your side and saw Steve next to you— head against one of your pillows, eyes shut, and lips slightly parted. It was a nice surprise seeing him asleep next to you, but you also knew that he probably shouldn’t be. 

You reached out and lightly poked his cheek a few times. His eyes slowly opened just for a second before closing again and he let out a soft, “Hm?”

“You’re gonna get sick too if you sleep here,” You told him. 

“I wanna stay close just in case you need something.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “And you wonder why I act like a baby when I’m sick. It’s because you treat me like one.” 

“Well, someone has to.” Steve shrugged through his half-asleep daze and you knew exactly what he meant by his words. 

When you were younger, before you met him, you had gotten so used to taking care of yourself because your parents weren’t the type to do much; your dad was always on some sort of business trip and your mom was always busy working at her office. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time either of them gave you medicine or soup or even worried about you at all when you got sick. However, the day your parents met Steve’s on that cruise and it was discovered that you all lived in towns that were only twenty minutes away from one another, things changed— you and Steve started taking care of each other. 

In tenth grade when you got the flu, he spent his lunchtime every day that week driving to your house to check on you. And even though he hated school, he’d still go to yours and pick up your assignments from one of your friends, and he’d help you do most of them so you didn’t fall behind too much; most of it was wrong, but it was the thought that counted. And when he got sick last Summer, you spent every night at his house until he felt better. It was slightly funny because those four days led you to getting sick the next week, and it felt like that same thing was about to happen in this instance. 

“You saying that just reminded me that I need to call my mom and tell her that I can’t come to the Christmas brunch thing she set up with my Aunt and cousin,” You shifted a bit and pulled the blanket higher over you. “Now, I’m actually glad that I’m sick.” 

“I already called and told her while you were sleeping, but she didn’t really believe me, so yeah you should probably call her too,” Steve said, which made you laugh a bit.

“That’s actually not surprising. I’ll call in the morning,” You said and then yawned. “You don’t have to go to your parent’s tomorrow, right?”

“Nope, they’re in California for this business thing my dad has to be at.”

“Nice,” You responded with a small nod. “For some reason, I can’t remember the last time it was just you and me during Christmas.”

“Ninth grade,” Steve said with a small sleepy smile on his face and his eyes opened again. “My parents were out of town, and then yours had to leave too to do something last second. We had the great idea to set up the tent I got in sixth grade and camp out in my backyard.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said, laughing at the memory. “We got way too cold around one in the morning and decided to just sleep in front of the fireplace in the living room.” 

“I wish this place had a fireplace.”

“We can sleep in front of the radiator?”

Steve thought about your suggestion for a second before shaking his head. “Not the same.”

“Okay, that’s true,” You said with a quick nod before reaching beneath the blanket and lightly poking his t-shirt covered side. “Hey, do you remember what I got you that year?”

Steve immediately let out a laugh. “Yes, and I actually still have that Mickey Mouse poster.” 

You turned away from him then and covered your face with your hands. “Oh, God. No, you don’t. You’re kidding.”

“Yes, I do,” Steve said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “It’s rolled up in my closet. I would go grab it, but I’m too tired to move right now.”

You remembered exactly how excited you had been to give him that poster, which was supposed to be a really cool picture of one of his favorite basketball players, and the guy that you bought it from at the flea market even told you that it was signed. But when Steve pulled it out of the plastic and unrolled it in his living room on Christmas, instead of it being anywhere close to a photo of any basketball player, it was a picture of Mickey Mouse on a train.

“I’m still so embarrassed and mad that the sales guy at that flea market tricked me,” You said and sighed. You were still a little upset with yourself that you didn’t make him open up the poster and show it to you before you bought it, but he said that was “against the rules” since it was sealed in the plastic, and that reasoning had somewhat made sense to you. “And it’s not like I could try to return it or yell at him because the flea market was only here for a weekend.”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, I think we should hang the poster up in the living room. Maybe where the dining table is?” 

You turned to face Steve again. “I will never allow that to happen.”

“I guess I’ll just have to put it up when you fall asleep,” He said, and you ignored his overdramatic wince when you playfully punched his arm. “Do you remember what I got you for Christmas that year?” 

“Of course,” You nodded. You still had that silver bracelet he got you, and you were a thousand percent certain that you would keep it forever, even though now it just sat in your jewelry box because the clasp broke sometime last year. “I still can’t figure out how to fix that damn clasp.”

“I could just get you another one.”

“Not the same,” You told him with a quick shake of your head. “One day I’ll figure out how to fix it.”

“Okay,” He said and then brought up a different time that the two of you decided to try camping in his backyard, which was in the Summer and on a very warm night, but you and him still didn’t fully spend the night outside because there were too many bugs. 

You laughed at the memory as Steve talked about it now because it just reminded you that you and him were probably the least “outdoorsy” people ever, but somehow that never stopped either of you from trying to be. 

That was how the rest of the night went; reminiscing about more random stuff— memories from various moments of your friendship that always made you smile or laugh or even feel a little bit embarrassed— until both of you fell asleep again. And it wasn’t the biggest surprise when Steve woke up in the morning sniffling.

“I told you this would happen,” You said to him as you walked back to your bed, cough syrup in hand because you knew that he’d be needing it. You were actually feeling the tiniest bit better; still pretty bad but not as horrible as yesterday.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” He grumbled as he rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes and then sneezed.

“Here. Take this,” You said with a small smile, mimicking the same words he had said to you yesterday. 

“Our roles changed way too fast,” Steve said before drinking the capful of cough syrup. “I was supposed to be taking care of you, and now you’re the one taking care of me.”

“We’ll take shifts on who gets to be the more helpless one,” You told him amusingly. “Right now it’s your turn. Do you want some water?”

He nodded and you went to the kitchen to grab a bottle and then handed it over to him before you settled back in the bed. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A handful of hours passed, all of which marked the most boring Christmas you’d probably ever had; but you’d take this silence and sickness over a tense brunch with your mom any day.

You were reading a book and Steve was still asleep next to you, turned on his side and blanket covering his head. A knock on the front door pulled your focus away from the page you were in the middle of reading.

You really didn’t feel like getting out of bed to answer it, but you also didn’t want to wake Steve and make him go do it, so with a sigh, you closed your book and placed it on the nightstand and then walked out of your bedroom. You headed to the couch first to grab the knitted throw blanket and wrap it around your shoulders so that it covered your bare legs, and then you proceeded to answer the door. 

Miss Johnson, the sweet older woman that lived a few doors down, stood in front of you with a red and green plaid patterned tin of what you assumed were the Christmas cookies that she told you about the first time you met. When you and Steve moved into the building, she introduced herself on that first day and gave you a welcome basket of muffins that were probably the best muffins that both you and Steve had ever had, and she also mentioned that for the holidays she gave out cookies to people in the building.  

She smiled at you for a brief second before a surprised look crossed her face. “Hi– Oh, you look terrible. What happened?”

Somehow the brutal honesty actually felt more sweet and worried than rude; and it warmed your heart and simultaneously hurt it so fucking bad that she was the only older adult in your life that actually seemed to care. 

You let out a small cough. “Me and Steve are sick right now. Just a cold.”

“Oh no, that stinks,” She said with a frown, and then held the tin out toward you. “Here take these cookies and I’ll be right back. Let me go make you both some soup.”

You grabbed the tin and smiled at her. “Thank you so much for the cookies, but you don’t have to make us soup.” 

In all honesty, you would’ve loved soup at that moment because you and Steve hadn’t eaten all day aside from the two slices of buttered toast that he made around noon, since neither of you could really be bothered to make anything else. But, Miss Johnson had already made the cookies for you two, so you felt bad about her also doing this for you and Steve. 

She shook her head at you. “No, no, it’s not a problem at all. I know I already have all of the ingredients, so it’ll just take me fifteen minutes, twenty tops.”

You were about to assure her again that she really didn’t have to do that, but she was already walking away and heading back down the hall before any word could leave your mouth. 

There was something about the gesture that felt way too sweet and nice, and it made you wish that you had someone like her in your life when you were younger. And then that thought made you feel so fucking grateful that for the past almost ten years, you had Steve. 

You placed the cookie tin on the kitchen counter and then tightened your blanket around you. You could see from the large window that led out to the fire escape that the sun was beginning to set, and as you got closer and peaked below at the street, you saw that some snow still lingered on the ground from when it came down a few days ago; the same night that you and Steve sat out on the fire escape.

The sudden sound of Steve saying, “Please don’t go out there. I don’t wanna repeat this sick cycle,” made you turn around and look at your best friend. He had slipped on a hoodie, which was yours (although back in high school it technically had been his), and his hair was the messiest you’d seen it in a while, and that let you know exactly how bad he was probably feeling right then. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going out there without an actual jacket anytime soon.”

“Okay, good,” He yawned and then smiled when he saw what was on the counter. “Miss Johnson brought the cookies?”

“Yes,” You said, walking back to the kitchen and watching as Steve opened up the tin. There were at least a dozen cookies in it; a mixture of Christmas trees, Santa Clauses, and snowflakes. “She also went to go make us soup since we’re sick.”

“She’s way too nice to us,” Steve said and grabbed one of the Santa Claus cookies.

“I agree,” You told him, deciding to grab a snowflake cookie for yourself. “Meanwhile, we’re horrible people and didn’t even think about getting her something for Christmas. Once we’re better we have to get her something.”

“Yeah. We can get her a nice sweater or cardigan,” Steve said, and you nodded at that suggestion; whenever either of you saw Miss Johnson she was almost always wearing some sort of fun and colorful cardigan so that idea felt right. He took another bite of the cookie in his hand and then looked at you. “Will this ruin our appetite?”

“Considering the fact that we’ve barely had anything to eat today since we’ve felt so shitty, I don’t think that there’s really an appetite to ruin.”

“Very true.”

The two of you migrated to the couch, bringing the cookie tin along with you, and mindlessly watched the Charlie Brown Christmas special that played on television as you ate some more cookies. 

When there was another knock on the door twenty minutes later, right as the Charlie Brown episode ended, you looked at Steve and pulled your legs off his lap. “Your turn to get it.” 

He nodded and got up, running a quick hand through his hair, which didn’t really do much to tame it, before opening the door. 

“Hi, Miss Johnson,” Steve said, and even though he was facing away from you, you could hear the smile in his voice. He received a smile back as she handed him a full tupperware of soup. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to make this for us.”

“It’s really no problem. I hope you two feel better soon,” She responded. “And also here are some tea bags. You guys should be drinking that too.” 

You watched as she put a few in Steve’s free hand. Neither you nor him really liked tea, but you weren’t about to tell Miss Johnson that when she was being so damn nice and thoughtful. 

“Thank you so much,” You said from the couch and smiled at her. “Also, we’ve already tried some of the cookies and they’re amazing.”

“Just wait until you try the chocolates I make for Valentine’s Day,” She said and you smiled even wider at that. 

“Can’t wait.”

She said her final goodbyes and headed back down the hall to her apartment after telling you both that you could knock on her door if you needed anything; more soup, medicine, etc. And that offer, which sounded completely genuine, only further confirmed the fact that you and Steve definitely needed to get her a gift as soon as possible. 

Steve pulled two bowls out of one of the cabinets and split the soup, which you then learned was chicken noodle, evenly in both of them and then handed one over to you. 

“Thanks,” You said as he also gave you a spoon and then sat down on the couch again. 

He took control of the TV remote and you didn’t argue when he stopped on a channel that was playing a James Bond movie. After finishing your soup, you maneuvered around so that you were laying down and your head was in his lap and you fell asleep just like that. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another set of hours passed, although you were unaware of exactly how many. You were woken up by the feeling of Steve softly stroking your ear; which he knew would always either annoy you or make you laugh because of how much it tickled— most of the time it was both. This time was no different. 

You were laughing as you shooed his hand away. “Stop that.”

“I needed to wake you up.”

You looked up at him and rubbed your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

You nodded at his answer and then suddenly realized through your half asleep daze why he decided to wake you right then. “Oh, we have to open the presents.”

From that very first Christmas you spent together, it was agreed upon that you would do your gift exchange at night— once you both were done being stuck all day with your parents and other family members that you never saw any other time of the year. 

You’d sneak off to his house once those family members were gone and your parents were asleep, or he’d come to yours, and then you’d exchange gifts and almost always end up talking about nothing until the morning. 

You sat up. “I’m just now realizing that we could’ve done it earlier today.”

“Yeah, but that would’ve broken the tradition,” Steve said and you agreed with that, there was something about always doing the gift exchange at night that felt like the only way to do it at this point.

You went into your bedroom and grabbed Steve’s present that you had stashed away in your closet. When you left your room, you saw that he was already sitting next to the small Christmas tree that sat lit up in the corner close by the window and he was holding what you rightly assumed was your gift from him. 

The tree was so small that it didn’t make sense to put gifts under it, so that was why you kept the one you got for Steve in your room and he had yours in his. The only things that did sit next to the tree and slightly under it were the little presents that you both got for Harold the Hamster. 

“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” You said, sitting down next to him and giving him his gift. He let out a laugh when he noticed that the green wrapping paper had pictures of polar bears wearing Santa hats on it— when you had seen it weeks ago at the store, you thought it was adorably funny and knew you had to get it.

He handed over the gift he got you and the sight of his messy wrapping job made you smile. “Merry Christmas.” 

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A happy yelp emitted from your lips when you saw the vinyl of The Breakfast Club soundtrack. It was quite literally the perfect gift— you had held the tape of the movie that you rented from Steve’s Family Video hostage for a month straight when they first got it in, and sometimes you’d watch the movie just to hear the songs.

“After how many times you watched the movie this year, this felt very fitting,” Steve told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the red bow that was placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at him and smiled. “I hope you’re prepared to hear this at least three times a week for the next few months.” 

He laughed a bit. “I knew you were going to say that, and I’ve already accepted the fact that I will have to hear Don’t You Forget About Me on an endless loop for a while.” 

“Good,” You said, still smiling, and then you bumped your knee with his. “Open yours.”

Steve finally started opening your gift for him, tearing the wrapping paper off to reveal a shoebox, which had a new pair of white Nikes inside. They were the same as the pair he already had that had the red “swoosh” on the side, but that pair was now a lot less white since he had them since Sophomore year of high school and he’d wear them almost religiously. 

“It’s time to retire the ones you’ve had for the past three years,” You said as he pulled out one of the sneakers. “Oh, also, there’s a note at the bottom of the box.” 

Steve put the one sneaker down and then grabbed the small notecard with your handwriting on it that was buried underneath the other one. “‘This is long overdue. You probably should’ve gotten rid of your last pair after the basketball season ended Senior year. And speaking of basketball, after your many years of begging and pleading I will finally grant your wish and play basketball with you. You’re welcome. Shit, I already regret writing this.’” He looked at you, a smile growing on his face. “You’re serious?” 

“Sadly, yes,” You answered, and when he smiled wider, you said, “It’s only gonna happen one time and just for a couple of hours, and if I break my leg or arm or anything else during this, I will sue you, Harrington.” 

You had two left feet when it came to any sort of sport— in a way, it was funny how clumsy you’d get whenever you had to play anything— and Steve knew that, but for perhaps the entirety of your friendship he still always tried to convince you to play basketball with him, and you always said no because why would you ever do something that you knew would only lead to embarrassment? Even if it was just with your best friend. He’d seen more than enough of your accidental embarrassing moments, and in your mind there was no need for him to also see one that could easily be avoided. 

But, you knew that finally doing this would make him happy, and that made your imminent embarrassment feel somewhat worth it.

“You’re not gonna break anything, but if you do, I’ll completely understand if you decide to sue me,” Steve said and you could hear the joking undertones in his voice. “So, when can we play?”

“You can choose the day, but please wait until we’re not sick and when it’s not freezing cold outside.” 

He nodded at that. “Okay, deal.”

“What did you get Harold?” You asked as you picked up the present next to the tree that Steve had wrapped.

“A new wheel,” He answered and that made you laugh.

“I also got him a new wheel.”

It actually wasn’t entirely surprising that you and Steve had the same gift idea. You two loved Harold with your entire hearts, but at least twice a week he’d wake one or both of you up at three in the morning by running on the current wheel he had, which was the squeakiest thing in the world.

Steve looked over at where Harold’s cage sat on the coffee table in the living room area. “Maybe he’ll like having two.” 

“Yeah,” You nodded. “Maybe he’ll designate one for daytime running and the other for nighttime running.”

Steve smiled at your joking statement. “Exactly.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington series #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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[simonrillleyyysss]

last anon. damn thank you for giving us such a content.

okay, i was focused on the teddy that holding love with "PRINCESS" on it garrtghhh😩💗. can you imagine him customed that teddy just for her? making a surprise—coming back home with a not so large teddy, just for his darling to be happy because he loves to see you all beaming and happy! and yeah...darling let him fuck her because he makes her happy;D ((you know, konig likes the idea of fucking you with a new member of the family—pink princess teddy))

yess!!

‘oh! she’s so cute, köni! thank you!’

you said with a bright smile, playing with the bears plush fur, pressing it against your chest with excitement, kicking your feet and giggling childishly, hugging the pink stuffie.

‘what are you going to name her?’

‘dunno yet—she’s so adorable! how much was she?’

könig shrugged, leaning down to press his lips against yours momentarily, patting your cheek dismissively, watching your doe-like eyes flutter up at him through thick, dolly lashes.

‘does not matter, prinzessin, all i want is for my beautiful doll to have fun with her, sie es verdient, verwöhnt zu werden.’

with a soft smile, you peered up at him with adoration, patting the teddies head while kissing his nose.

minutes later, he had you on his lap; bouncing up and down on his thick cock, pretty lace panties pushed to the side to reveal your puffy folds to his hungry eyes, watching the way your wet heat sucked him back in like a vacuum each time you sank down, soft mewls coming from your lips.

‘köni-köni-‘

you spat mindlessly, eyelashes slick with fat tears, teddy pressed against your stomach in seek of comfort, chest covered in dark hickeys from the austrian below you, his mouth currently wrapped around your head nipple; sucking and moaning like a virgin teenager, kneading at your breast —his freehand moving down to run at your clit, which was rubbing against the dark, amber hair trailing down to his cock.

‘feels so good—mhhohh!’

‘so tight, Ich habe die Muschi meiner kleinen Mädchen sehr vermisst.’

you sobbed out, lifting the teddy, placing it on your face and pressing your nose against the animals stomach, königs eyes drifting to the large ‘princess’ label on it, his heart racing as your nails dig into his scalp, hands tugging at the long, red locks that hung by his shoulders, gently suckling and licking at the perky bud on your breast, moaning as he suckled needily.

‘gonna cum!’

you announced, his hips slamming up to meet your own in a rhythmic pace; riding him with desperation.

‘nnngghhmmm….! oh—ohcumminnnnnn!’

‘cum for me, princess..oh, fuck..Hübsche Titten.’

the austrian cooed, feeling your walls clench around his cock, growling softly as he spurted cum into the needy walls of your womb, squishing your chest.

‘gonna make these nice and full, tummy will be carrying my litter.’

‘mhm..all..all yours..’

you gasped out in exhaustion, blinking slowly as you cuddled against your teddy, head ducking between your thighs.

‘i need some cool off time.’

and with that, he licked long stripes along your cunny.

#könig x reader #i love nasty konig #konig smut #konig x you #konig x reader #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig x reader smut #konig imagine #[* plushobsessed!rdr *] #simonrillleyyysss

[somber-sapphic]

Cooking With A Cold

〖500 Follower Prompt: “Oh sweetheart, you’re worse than I thought” + “Sorry, I can’t stop sneezing” + 🏥〗

〖Summary: You hurt yourself while trying to cook a romantic meal for your girlfriend.〗

〖Word Count: 1.5k〗

〖Pairing: Natasha x Sick Reader〗

〖A/N: Hello! So, some of you may know there was a bit of a "situation" last week which threw me off a bit and I decide to postpone posting this. I know, it's been months, but I really needed to recompose and regroup which changed my plan. Sorry, I know this is a bit long but I hope you enjoy!〗

☾Masterlists☽ ☾500 Masterlist☽

Natasha had just gotten home from a long mission and when she had come into the kitchen you’d screeched at her to get out, not wanting to ruin the surprise. She’d left laughing and was currently sitting on the couch in preparation for what she didn't expect to be an incredibly fancy dinner. She knew that you hated to cook and assumed you’d just thrown a few frozen things in the oven and mac and cheese or something on the stove. 

Instead, you had taken it upon yourself to make her favorite dinner and a dessert to go with. Over the two weeks that she had been gone, you’d been watching cooking videos and practicing in your spare time. There was a lot of spare time. You had decided to make her a medium-rare steak with baked asparagus and sauteed mushrooms. Following that there was a cheesecake in the fridge that had come out much better than you’d expected.

When planning this fancy meal that you very much didn't know how to cook, you had been so excited. You were thrilled to get to spend real time with your girlfriend and you wanted her to tell you everything about the ocean and beach and blue skies. It hadn't been a particularly dangerous mission, and you were sure that she’d be happy to tell you all of the more fun details. 

So of course, your body had decided to throw something at you. Maybe it was the long nights spent awake wishing you weren't alone in your bed, maybe it was the fact that one of the Avengers (Clint) seemed intent on spending time with you even though he was clearly sick (it was probably the second one), but the cause didn't matter because you were sick. Sick sick. 

You didn't have a little sniffle that you could push through with a dose of cold medicine and a few tissues, you had a full-on everything hurts, whole body feels hot and cold, stuffy and runny nose, dizziness, chest cough that won't let up kind of cold. Or maybe the flu. You weren't sure, but that didn't particularly matter to you either. For now, all that mattered was you staying upright for long enough to finish this meal. 

Between breaks of sitting on the floor and about one million tissues, you’d managed to get down to the last stretches. The steak was done, and ready to be cut. The mushrooms were sitting on the stove covered by a pot lid to keep them warm. All that was left was the asparagus sitting in the oven and the timer for those had just gone off. 

You pulled yourself to your feet and stumbled slightly, the world shifting quickly around you as your center of gravity changed. It was all you could do not to grab the hot stovetop and stumble into the counter instead, hoping that you hadn't made too much noise. You may have felt awful, but you didn't need Natasha to know that. 

With your brain on autopilot, you stuck your hands into the oven and grabbed the metal pan with a bare hand. You were so out of it and ready to be finished cooking dinner that you hadn't realized you had forgotten the oven mitt until you felt white-hot pain shoot through your hand. 

You pulled back with a strangled gasp, catching the back of your hand on one of the oven racks as you did. Tears of pain clouded your vision momentarily and you clutched your hand to your chest, unsure what to do. The gasp led to a fit of coughing that left you doubled over and panicking. If you just kept standing there your dinner would burn, but you were pretty sure that your hand was useless. And the room was still spinning.

Now you’d have to get Natasha and she would be upset because not only had you ruined dinner, but she’d also need to take care of you. You stood there frozen, and to your utter horror, you began to cry. The frustration of it all was too much. All you’d wanted to do was make a nice hot dinner for your incredibly busy girlfriend and now you needed her help. 

“Hey Nat?” You called out in a watery voice, congestion seeping into your worlds. You sniffled and brought your tightly clenched hand up to wipe your nose on your sleeve, doing your best not to disturb the burn. A tiny part of your brain was telling you that you should probably be running it under cool water or at least stick it in the fridge, but it hadn't quite caught up to the part that was shutting down the pain. 

Natasha, bounced into the room, her smile lighting up her eyes falling as she saw the twisted expression on your face and the protective way you were holding your hand. You could feel your lower lip quivering and your nose might have been running again but you weren't sure, you were just humiliated. To be safe, you swiped your hand against your fist and sniffled. 

“Oh dorogory, what happened?” She asked, rushing over to wrap her arms around you. You laid your head against her shoulder and let out a whimper, wishing that you didn't have to admit to your failure out loud. This was all so humiliating. 

She pulled back for a moment and cupped your cheek, lips pursed, and eyebrows furrowed. She glanced back at the half-open oven, then at your hand, then back into your eyes and you watched her face go from pure terror for your safety to understanding concern. 

“Show me please?” Nat murmured, not wanting to force your hand open and risk hurting you more. You started to nod, but quickly wrenched away to sneeze into your elbow. One sneeze turned into four which turned into a bout of raspy coughing which made you glad you’d managed to turn in time. You didn't want to get her sick too. 

You extended your hand at the end of the fit, revealing the blistering burn across your palm. 

“Oh, Y/n, I could tell you were sick, but sweetheart, you’re worse than I thought!” She exclaimed, studying your burn intensely as she flicked her eyes up to your mess of a face. You wrinkled your nose and sniffled again, blinking rapidly at her. Black dots had appeared in the corners of your vision in these last few seconds, and you were beginning to wonder how much longer you’d be able to stand up. 

“Shit, okay. Let's get you sitting.” You didn't have to say a word, Natasha was right there wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to the living room. She even managed to turn the oven off as she practically carried you out and set you down on the sofa. 

You leaned against the arm of the couch and rested your head on the cushion, another low rumbling cough echoing through your chest. It hurt to breathe, and you could hear a slight wheeze that might be more audible to those with less clogged ears. 

“Okay. This hand really doesn't look great baby and I don't like the sound of your breathing. You’re going to hate this, but there’s an Urgent Care a few minutes away and I think we need to go. They might be able to get you something for the pain and something to open up those lungs, okay?” She didn't bother to sugarcoat (much) and her tone made it clear that she wasn't asking. Whether you wanted to or not, you had earned yourself a trip to Urgent Care. 

Instead of answering you sneezed again, barely able to direct the sneezes to your lap rather than in her direction. You knew it was gross, but you couldn't seem to make your limbs cooperate the way you wanted them to. Lifting a pinky felt like lifting a thousand tons. 

“M’sorry. I can’t stop sneezing.” You mumbled, hoping those words were enough to convey just how sorry you were, not just for the sneezing but for everything. Natasha kissed the top of your head and pressed a tissue to your nose, guiding your uninjured hand to hold it there. 

“No apologies my love, just sit tight. I’ll get your shoes and your favorite blanket then we’ll head out, okay?” She soothed, running your fingers through your hair as she talked.

Her voice was the sound of summer rain on a warm night, slow rolling waves on a white sand beach, and birds chirping in a lush green forest. It was every comforting thing anyone could think of plus ten more. She was all that. She never failed to make you feel safe, loved, accepted, and, most importantly, worthy of feeling all of those good things. 

You nodded wearily and let yourself melt against the couch as she moved around you, turning off lights and gathering whatever she thought that you would need. You were dreading whatever might happen at Urgent Care, but if she was there you knew that it would be okay. She’d make sure that it was all okay. And when you felt better, you’d make her that damn dinner. 

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#sickfic #fanfiction #sick fanfiction #fever #marvel sickfic #marvel #sick reader #marvel mcu #fever whump #natasha x y/n #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x sick reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #sick fanfic #sick you #natasha romanov #marvel fic #mcu sickfic #mcu #sick character #minor whump #fluff #slight angst #natasha x female reader #sick fic #sick

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Sick Days with Joel Miller

(Joel Miller x female! reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x female! reader (no outbreak) Word count: 4.5K of pure fluff and light smut Rating: 18+ MDNI, explicit descriptions of smut, swearing, age gap (reader is early 20s and Joel is late 40s) Summary: You're used to doing everything yourself, a facet of being single for so long, but when you start dating Joel Miller that all changes. Especially when you get sick during the first six months of your relationship, and Joel tries to take care of you. Main masterlist

A/N: This was so much fun to write y'all. I'm currently sitting in bed with a stuffy nose, sore throat, wicked headache, and hopped up on cold meds, wishing I had Joel Miller to take care of me 🥹. Also please excuse the fast and loose car mechanic jargon I used, I couldn't resist. The fast and furious series is also my guilty pleasure sick day movie choice, that and the OG star wars trilogy 🌚 An enormous thank you to my lifeline @iamasaddie for reading and giving me feedback and the most encouragement.

This is pure fluff with a bit of spice thrown in, I hope you enjoy! Please comment and reblog if you like it, and I might do more oneshots like this! - 🌹N

It’s the first time you’ve been sick since you and Joel started dating, and it’s different. Different from what you’re used to.

To preface, you rarely ever get sick. Rarely. And you pride yourself on that. You’re not entirely sure whether it's due to your ironclad immune system, or the fact that you’re a germaphobe who’s constantly washing their hands, but either way you manage to miraculously miss the seasonal bouts of illness that filter around when the weather gets colder. 

So you’re not entirely sure how you manage to succumb to the throes of this particular cold, but the sore throat and stuffy nose that you woke up with were unmistakable.  Other than crying, which wouldn’t help the pounding headache that you had also been blessed with, all you could do was groan and silently curse, rolling back over in bed and snuggling under the covers. You mindlessly stretch your arm out over the sheets, reaching over onto the other empty side of the bed. The cold, unmussed sheets, not filled with the broad, warm body that usually occupies the space make you groan internally once more. 

You’re not a crybaby. Not one for milking the sick patient act, and after being single for so long you mostly run on autopilot.  Your independence and resilience outweigh your desire to have anyone take care of you or do anything for you really. Well, that was the case up until now. Until you met Joel.

You’ve had partners before that have ‘taken care’ of you when you were sick. Or well, tried to. The key word being tried. Other than a measly backrub and cuddling with you for the appropriate amount of time until they deemed it was time to go cause they weren’t getting laid, you pretty much handled it yourself. And you liked it that way. You didn’t need anyone else to play martyr and attend to your every beck and call. 

Joel on the other hand, he does things. His presence interrupted your stream of self reliance and knocked you on your ass when you didn’t know what to do with yourself. When you had nothing left to do for yourself, because he had already taken care of it all.

The light in the hood range above your oven went out? Joel fixed it. The bathroom sink began leaking underneath the cabinet? No less than a day later you come home and you already find him lying on his back, head underneath the vanity, toolbox beside him, twisting pipes this way and that. 

Just last week you mentioned to him that you’ve been hearing a squeaking sound coming from the car every time you press on the brakes, next thing you know he’s out in the driveway, broad shoulders hunched over the hood as he tightens and loosens bearings, tinkering the way he knows best. 

“Alright, you shouldn’t hear that noise anymore. The rotors on your front brakes needed tightening,” he mentions casually, wiping his hands off on a greasy rag as he comes into your kitchen from the garage. Looking up from the magazine you’re reading, you pause your chewing around a mouthful of toast. 

“Huh?” you raise a brow at him quizzically. “I only told you about that yesterday though. I was just gonna take it to the mechanic.”

The corner of his lip lifts up slightly as he smirks. “And now you won’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day, or tomorrow, or the day after that. It was an easy fix, plus the mechanic woulda overcharged the hell outta you darlin’.”

You roll your eyes, “Gotta love that fucking misogyny,” you huff as you get up and head into the kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee for you both. 

“It’s the way of the car industry unfortunately. Most guys who own shops are just crooks out to get anyone’s money, and most people don’t really know any better.” He replies casually as he washes his hands at the sink beside you. 

“And I suppose that makes me ‘most people,’” you grumble, packing the coffee grounds into the filter, before placing it into the machine. 

Without missing a beat, Joel slides your mug under the dispenser first. It's a cute little white ceramic mug that says Pot Head, beneath it is a comical image of coffee pot with bloodshot googly eyes .  It was his present to you after you started dating, and he first slept over at your place. He soon realized the depths of your monosyllabic crabbiness in the morning, when he tried to talk to you before your first cup of coffee.

Now, six months into your relationship, the coffee pot is usually the first appliance that gets turned on in the morning, usually by Joel, the early riser that he is, while you soak up a few more moments of sleep. It’s pretty futile though, because once he gets out of bed, you can’t get comfortable under the covers, your personal space heater leaving a massive dent in the comforter. 

“You ain’t most people to me,” his voice deepens with that Southern drawl as he moves to stand behind you, drying off his hands. God, he’s so fucking big. His presence crowds you, feeling his broad chest against your back as he places his hands on either side of you, pinning you to the counter. 

You hum with a knowing smile as you hit the button to start dispensing the coffee. “Is that so?”

He leans in, brushing your hair off of your shoulder, leaning in to nuzzle your neck. “You’re my person. Mine. That’s about all that matters.” Pressing featherlight kisses into your neck, you sigh and let your head fall back against his broad shoulder, giving him more access.  

“Well,” you try to collect your thoughts but the logical, words forming, part of your brain shuts down, turning to mush as he begins to nibble and bite at your neck. “Thank you for fixing the squeaky sound,” you barely get the words out between shallow breaths.

“No problem at all darlin.’” He grinds his hips into the plush of your ass and starts sucking on your pulse point. You whimper pathetically, grabbing a hold of his hands on the counter bracketing you, pushing your ass back against his crotch, reveling in how hard he is. Your pussy throbs with want, as you feel it clench around nothing, wetness seeping out of it. 

“Should be silent as a whistle now.” His voice is gravelly deep now, and you snake a hand around the back of his neck, clutching his body closer to yours as you continue to let out small mewls. “Your noises on the other hand, are driving me fuckin’ insane. Wanna get more than just a squeak out of you.”

He reaches down, palm skimming over the curve of your hips, down to your ass before he squeezes, while biting down on the junction between your shoulder and your neck. At that, you squeak. 

“Joel…” your last two brain cells firing off weakly as you try to form a coherent thought. “What- What about the c-coffee?”

“You had one cup already this morning,” he murmurs into your skin, “it’ll keep.” His left hand moves to grip your hip, the other one squeezing your asscheek again, not before he gives it a firm smack. You jolt forward in his grip and moan, bending your upper half over the counter, your body already responding so easily to his touch. 

“Bedroom.” He says gruffly, releasing your hips and stepping back with a smirk on his face. You blink your eyes open, not realizing you had them closed in the first place and turn around with a glare. 

Joel lazily tilts his head in the direction of your bedroom, his hand grabbing the obvious bulge in his pants. “C’mon my little pot head.”

So yeah, needless to say you really didn’t have to worry about being reliant on yourself for many things anymore. Joel was happy to do those things for you, and you were more than happy to show him your appreciation in return.

Being sick however, that seemed to stump him. There wasn’t anything to physically fix aside from your ailments, although he wishes that could be the case. That he could just snap his fingers and your nose would be cleared, sore throat gone, headache disappeared. But it wasn’t that easy.

Normally, you’d try to ride it out for a day or two as best you could, without making a fuss over it, but today the buzzing in your head was too intense to ignore. You yanked the top drawer of your nightstand open, bemoaning as you fruitlessly rummaged through the empty box of Nyquil pills, empty Advil bottles, and one lonely tub of Vicks shoved towards the back.  

“For fuck’s sake. Of course,” you gritted. Closing the drawer, you roll back into the sheets, throwing an arm over your eyes and letting out the deepest sigh ever. Just then your phone vibrates on the nightstand. You pick it up and squint with bleary eyes as you focus on the text. It’s from Joel

[Joel]: Mornin’ darlin.’ Still up for the 7pm showing tonight?

You furrow your brows for a moment before you roll your eyes, back into your skull it feels like. 

“Shit. The movies.”

It was Tuesday. You guys had made plans to see a cheap show after Joel got off work tonight. Some new crappy instalment of the Fast and Furious movies, hence the cheap night choice.

You sniffle as you fumble to type out a reply. The rhythmic pounding in your head distorts your concentration. 

[You]: Morning babe. I don’t think so. Sorry. I came down with something last night and I feel like shit. 

You add in multiple variations of the sad crying emoji, and the water gun to be dramatic.

[Joel]: No worries hun. I’m sorry you’re not feelin’ well. 

[Joel]: Wanna do something else? 

You wish. You love any plans and dates you have with Joel, and you’re more than happy to cancel those plans to stay in with him on any day of week. Today shouldn’t feel like an exception but you don’t want to inconvenience him, and you also don’t want him to see you when you practically look like an extra off the set of The Walking Dead. 

You sigh again harshly and sniffle.

[You]: I don’t think so. I feel like shit. Just wanna stay in bed and rot, plus I don’t wanna get you sick.

He’ll probably think you’re being overdramatic. The productive storm that you are getting bested by a measly cold, it’s stupid. Unheard of.

[Joel]: I think you’ll survive. Can’t have you dying on me so soon into our relationship, we still gotta hit the one year anniversary. 

Biting your lip, you shake your head. How this man remains to be flirty and cute even when you’re feeling low and incredibly not cute is beyond you. Your phone buzzes again.

[Joel]: Plus if you’re sick now, then chances are I woulda already caught whatever bug you have cause I saw ya two days ago. 

Well, he’s not wrong when you think about it. Your cheeks heat up when you think back to Sunday night, when he had stayed over. You were straddling his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as he licked into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip and gripping your hips while you lazily bounced up and down his thick cock.  

Ironically, it was supposed to be a Fast and Furious marathon night in preparation for the cheap movie you would see in theaters tonight. You barely made it through the first 20 minutes of the first movie in the series before Joel’s thick fingers started aimlessly tracing the inside of your thigh as you sat beside him. Your pussy throbbed at the memory, the phantom stretch of his cock, almost matching the throbbing residing in the front of your head. 

Yeah, so maybe he was past the point of contagion. You’re so lost in reminiscing, he must realize it’s taking you a minute to respond, fully well knowing the effect that his words have on you. So he texts again.

[Joel]: Was a pretty fucking good Sunday night 😈

The devil emoji causes a chuckle to sputter up through your chest, but it’s pretty short-lived when you realize you can’t chuckle and breathe in through your congested nose at the same time. You recently taught him how to use emojis in his texts, so you’re surprised when he actually puts it to the test.

[You]: That it was babe. But I don’t wanna burden you, plus we can’t really do anything. 🙄

You add on the eye roll emoji, sure that he’s feeling the same way too. What guy wouldn’t? Surely not any of the guys you dated in the past. They tried, but deemed it wasn’t worth it when you couldn’t even suck their dicks without needing to pause every few seconds to breathe through your mouth and cough. Your sore throat feeling like it was wrapped in barbed wire. 

[Joel]: Who said we had to do anything? I’d still wanna spend time with you. I just like being with ya.

Damn this fucking man for being such a sweetheart. You didn’t deserve him.

[Joel]: I’ll be over in 30. Want me to bring anything in particular?

[You]: You’re in the middle of the workday Joel, you don’t need to come over.

Of course you want him to come over. His presence is the only thing that would lift your mood if you’re being honest, despite feeling like your body’s been hit by a semi. But you don’t want him to leave work. That’s too much, and you’re not that whiny girlfriend.

Seemingly unimpressed by your response, he replies again.

[Joel]: 👀. 🍔 🍦 🍿?

[You]: I’m not terribly hungry right now. Just bring yourself. And maybe a bottle of nyquil plus some advil 💊? Also, look at you with all your emojis, I’m impressed 😉

[Joel]: 👍🏻sounds good. See you soon 🛻

Tossing your phone into the comforter, you slowly roll out of bed. Like a slug, you slide out from under the covers, over the side of the mattress, planting your feet on the ground before you keel over. 

You pad into the kitchen, glancing at the coffee maker forlorn. Probably not the best option with how your throat feels right now. Frowning, you grab a mug from the cabinet, not your pot head mug, but a plain one with simple red flowers painted on it, and flick the switch for the kettle on. Your options for tea weren’t endless as a coffee drinker, but you only really drank the muddied flavored water when you felt sick. Settling for a package of stale peppermint, you place the tea bag in the cup of boiled water and go to plop yourself back down onto the living room couch.

No less than 25 minutes later, you’re curled up on the couch, mug of tea in hand, and your head resting on a pillow as you start the first Fast and Furious movie. Might as well, since you didn’t technically watch it with Joel the first time. Plus, Paul Walker was easy enough on the eyes that you didn’t really mind watching it over again. 

Joel arrives minutes later, letting himself in, a bag from the pharmacy in one hand, and a plain plastic bag filled with containers in the other. Before you can question it, the savory fragrant smell of Chinese food wafts through the living room, infiltrating your senses and overpowering your congested nose. 

At that you raise your head off the couch cushion, sitting upright with your legs crossed. 

“Hey babe.” He drops the food off in the kitchen and comes over to the couch, pulling out the Nyquil and Advil, placing them on the coffee table.

“How you feelin’ ?” He kisses the top of your head and you grunt in response. 

“Like absolute garbage,” you croak with the smallest smile you can muster, as you look up at him. He huffs in response and gives you a placating smile, not before peering down into your mug to see the transparent brown water. “Tea? Jeez you weren’t kidding”

“It tastes like garbage too.” You wrinkle your nose after taking a small sip. The smell of the takeout slowly brings you back as you perk up and look at him. “You brought Chinese?” The hopeful smile in your face grows exponentially as he nods.

Joel hums. “I know when you say you’re not hungry, that’s a lie. I also know that you have the biggest appetite of any woman I know.” At that your eyes narrow and your mouth drops open.

“And-” he cuts you off before you can respond, “I know that if there’s any kinda food that could convince you to eat when you don’t have an appetite, it’s greasy Lo Mein, General Tso chicken and fried rice.”

Sighing with contentment you smile and slouch back in your seat. Whatever words were on the tip of your tongue soon disintegrate as gaze up at him with utter awe and adoration. 

“Thanks Joel, really. You didn’t have to do all this.”

He frowns at you, confusion clouding his features. He's so adorable when he looks confused. 

“It wasn’t a lot. You asked me to bring the cold medicine.” Flashing you a smirk, he brushes your hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear. “I was just thinking one step ahead of you, and this way you can have leftovers. Also if I could, I woulda tried to cook you something, but we both know that woulda been a disaster.”

You snort in response. “Well, still. I really appreciate it.” You nuzzle your face into his hand, as his thumb strokes across your cheek gently. You can feel your stomach twinging with hunger now, now that you’ve smelled the food. It almost matches your hunger for Joel. 

He must have changed at home before he came over. The faint scent of his sandalwood body wash floods your brain as you take in his dark flannel shirt, stretched over his broad shoulders, dark wash jeans hugging his strong thighs. His curls peek out at the back of his neck as they dry soft and fluffy while his molten brown eyes look at you with a mix of adoration and concern. 

Meeting his gaze, you look up at him through your lashes as you turn your face to kiss the tip of his thumb. Before he can stop you, you curl your tongue out, swirling it around the tip and closing your lips around it as you suck his thumb into your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks out, you suckle harder, feeling heat slowly flood your body.

Joel exhales sharply, as he grinds his jaw, clenching his other hand into a fist. 

“Christ baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know that?” He presses his thumb down on your tongue, forcing your mouth open as he pulls it out, letting it catch on your bottom teeth as you bite down playfully. 

It was just as easy to rile him up as he did with you, and you fucking loved it. You give him a saccharine smile. “Good. We can die together, seeing as I feel like death already”

He shakes his head and chuckles. “Why don’t you take two of these,” he opens the Advil bottle and places two tablets in your hand, “finish your tea, as much as you can,” he adds when you scrunch up your face at the mug, “and go take a hot shower. I’ll put the food out for us.” 

You pop the pills in your mouth, chug the rest of the tea, grimacing as you taste it and stand up to face him. Joel grabs your face with both hands, that look of pure warmth emanating through his big rounded eyes as he plants a soft kiss your forehead, before kissing you on the mouth. In a feeble attempt to protest, you weakly pull back but his mouth continues to seeks yours out. "Joel," you murmur against his mouth, "my germs.”  

“I love you, and I love your fuckin’ germs. They’re my germs too.” He pulls you into a big bear hug, you feel all the pent up tension from this morning dissipating from your body. Burying your face in his chest you inhale and make a small noise of contentment. You love his scent. It’s so inherently Joel. It’s home.

“Now go on.” He swats you on the butt playfully and you giggle, sashaying past him.

By the time you finish and get dressed, he’s already got the takeout containers organized strategically on the coffee table with plates, cutlery, and glasses set out. The lo mein and General Tso chicken dishes are closest to your side of the couch, while his dishes, the black pepper beef and spicy Singapore noodles, remain closer to his side, separated by the fried rice in the middle. Your heart warms and expands in your chest at the sight.

“I didn’t even wash my hair and it felt like that took fucking forever. The water pressure in that shower head used to be good,” you grumble as you take your hair out of the messy bun on top of your head, shaking it out for good measure. 

“How long’s it been actin’ up?” He asks while pouring some soy sauce over his noodles. 

Already, you can see the wheels turning in his head. Always the contractor. 

“For the last couple months but it’s really bad now.” You fix him with a knowing look and speak up again before he can say what you’re already anticipating. “And before you say you can fix it, I’ve already had repairmen over before you who tried and failed. Saying something about a part that needs to be ordered and it’s super fucking expensive.”

He says nothing in response, just raises a brow at you. “Whatever you say darlin.’” 

“C’mon let’s eat.” You change the subject and bounce over to the couch, shimmying by him and dropping down onto the couch. 

“Seems like the Advil kicked in,” he surmises with a smiles. Your energy is evidently higher now that the headache has gone away.

Humming, you lean in to kiss him. You press your lips into his, feeling his tongue glide against the seam of your mouth as you open up and let him in. Moaning quietly, you break off the kiss before it gets heated, and before you have to breathe through your mouth again - although your congestion has gone down significantly, the hot shower definitely helped. “That, and your presence helps too.”

He grins at you, a twinkle dancing across his big brown eyes. “Good. I’m glad. Nowhere else I’d rather be.” You look away bashfully, and begin piling stuff onto your plate.

“You started watching this again?” He nods at the TV with an unimpressed expression as Vin Diesel broods over the hood of an old muscle car.

“Yeah,” you mumble around a mouthful of chicken, “we barely watched 20 minutes of it before you had your fingers buried in my pussy.” You look at him pointedly with your mouth full and he bites the inside of his cheek.

Licking his lips, he leans down till his mouth is right next to your ear.

“I’d rather hear that tight little pussy purring around my fingers, than the hear the engine of a 1970 Dodge Charger baby," he says lowly, stretching his arm over the back of the couch as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck. "Even if it is one of my favorite cars.”

Slowly, he runs his fingers up and down the sides of your throat with a featherlight touch, careful to not squeeze as you finish swallowing your mouthful of food.

You groan and let your head fall back, submitting to his touch. Joel knows all your buttons to push, he learned them pretty quickly on into your relationship, and it made him all the more attractive to you. Every touch of his that made your breathing get shallow, every perfect press of his body against yours.

He knows you like being choked. Knows how sensitive your neck is, how you melt under his hands, turning to putty as soon as he wraps his large palms around the slender column of your throat. He makes it so fucking easy, your body so hyperactively attuned to his, no matter how crappy you may feel apparently.

“Joel,” you warn him but it comes out more as a breathless whine. Chuckling in response, he concedes and releases your neck.

“Not fair.” You glare at him and poke him in the chest with the opposite end of your fork. 

He shrugs and gives you that shit eating grin again. “Fair is fair darlin.’”

Shaking your head, you resume the movie and both dig into the food. As delicious as the takeout is, you recognize that you don’t have as big of an appetite as you usually do, given how run down you feel, and you get full pretty quickly. An hour into the movie you’re curled up against Joel’s side with your feet tucked under you, a thick blanket pulled over you both, and a beer in his left hand. 

“As if that would ever happen,” he grumbles out loud as he watches Paul Walker and Vin Diesel ramble on about fuel pump injectors and supercharged turbo's.

Secretly, you love how invested Joel gets in these shitty movies, it's partly why you put them on to begin with. Well, that, and because it usually ends with both of you getting distracted, and him railing you into the cushions of the couch. Still, it’s endearing to see him get annoyed and worked up over the mechanical and technical inaccuracies in the movies. It's also fascinating and super fucking attractive to see how his brain works. The competency kink in you preens at his humble flexing of mechanical knowledge.

You hum in question, too tired to formulate a better response.

“You put that much nos (nitrous oxide) in a car, and you’ll be blown to fuckin’ pieces at the smallest bump in the road. Jesus,” he shakes his head and gestures with his beer bottle at the screen. His right hand is curled around your shoulder, thumb brushing against your cheek, back and forth. The soothing movement coupled with your full belly is quickly lulling you into sleep.

“Well, Paul Walker seems to know what he’s doing, seeing as they made like 7 more movies after this one. Plus it’s just a movie babe. ” You nuzzle further into his shoulder, struggling to keep one eye on the movie as you hear Joel make more unenthused comments. 

“Movie or not, they coulda done their research. Half the shit they’re describing under the hood of a car sounds made up. And there's 7 fucking more of these films?”

He huffs in disbelief, taking another sip of his beer. "Yeah we wouldn't have made it through the rest of em.'"

“Okay Mr. Mechanic, we get it. It’s not 100% accurate, but you gotta admit the racing is pretty cool.”

He looks down at you from the corner of his eye, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly. “It’s alright I guess. More importantly, how are you feelin’ now?”

He rubs small circles into your back, as you practically fold over into his lap now, eyes refusing to stay open. 

“Mmmm, much better,” you stretch your legs out, arching your back like a cat, making a small sound of relief. “Thank you babe. For the food, the meds, for coming over and taking care of me.” Giving him a dopey smile, you peak one eye open at him.

“Anytime darlin,’ you don’t have to thank me, s’my job. And I’ll gladly do it any time, sick or not.” 

The warm depth of his voice seeps into your bones, as you soon doze off in his lap. He waits a little while till your breathing evens out, then kisses your head again as he slides out from underneath you to use the washroom. 

You perk up and blink your eyes open to see the credits rolling across the screen, just as you hear the toilet flush.  It's soon followed by the sound of the shower turning on and off, and then muffled sounds of clinking and clanking as Joel starts to take apart your shower head. 

Smiling to yourself, you close your eyes again and curl up on the warm spot he left behind. Maybe sick days aren’t so bad after all. 

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic

[callofdudes]

Hi! I am currently down with the sickness (not in the fun way) could you please write a fic with the cod guys and a sick reader? (Sore throat, congestion, cough) anyhoo I love your writing!!

Aww, well I hope you are doing better by now, but if you aren't, then here you have the boys taking good care of you.

141 taking care of a sick reader.

You hadn't been feeling well the last couple of days. It started small, a little headache, and your throat started to feel sore. Swallowing became rough and almost painful, causing you to drink more water and stealing from Simons tea stash more often.

This is actually how the others caught on.

Because you stole Simon's tea. And he noticed.

Another day, coughing your face off in your office. Your raw throat hurt, coughing again and taking another sip of tea, noticing you were getting low again.

Feeling too warm, too cold. Sniffly. You didn't want to admit that you were sick. It was less about telling the others and not doing anything but the fact of being sick. You never liked being sick.

You swallowed the last gulp of your tea and stood up, swishing the cup and heading out of your office to the shared common space kitchen further down the hall.

Surprised to get there and see Johnny and Simon talking while Simon made himself tea.

"Hey guys." You rasped, reaching to the cupboard to snatch another of Simon's tea packets.

Johnny looked at you. "Fuckin' hell, you look bloody terrible."

"Well thanks..."

Simon also looked at you. Seeing your flushed face, droopy eyes, stuffy nose, raw throat. "You're sick."

"I know..."

"So what the hell are you doing up?"

You look up at him and shrug, sniffling and wiping your nose on your sleeve out of habit. Simon gives you that look. The one of 'I'm not impressed' look.

You coughed again, forcing it into your sleeve and away from the two, and they had seen enough. They looked at each other, sharing a glance or two.

"I'll get this one to bed." Simon finished up your tea, giving the warm cup to you and ushered you down the hall.

"What??" You asked as you were led off away from the kitchen.

"You need rest and recovery. Not to mention we don't want you getting us sick as well." Simon's hand hovering over your back as he led you to your room. He placed your cup of tea on the nightstand and let you get dressed into comfier clothing before snuggling into bed.

Simon tucked the blankets in, wrapping you up and patting the top of your head a little roughly. "There. Now just... Sleep."

"That's not how it works... Simon..." You rasped, already feeling your droopy eyelids increase by 100 pounds.

Simon turned to the door as another few set of footsteps came in, Johnny coming in with new pillows and blankets. Making sure you were extra buried and tucked in.

Gaz also followed, having the medical supplies the check your condition.

"Hey y/n, heard you're sick." Gaz pulled out the thermometer.

"Hey Gaz... yeah..."

He tipped your chin and you opened your mouth so he could stick the thermometer under your tongue. Hearing it beep and then pulling it out, looking at the number.

"You're 38 Celsius. So average cold temperature. You'll be ok."

You nod. "Thank you."

Johnny ruffles your hair. "Get some rest Eggy, you'll need it."

You smile softly, patting his hand and closing your eyes, feeling the weight of your skeleton sink into the pillows.

Later in the evening you heard movement and someone touching your head. You moaned in pain, your throat dry and swallowing was painful. You opened your eyes, rubbing them and looking up.

"Mm, did I wake you?"

Price ran his hand through your hair. In the last couple hours one of them had placed a cold cloth on your head that had warmed over time.

"Hey cap..." You smiled weakly, sniffling and then coughing violently. Price moved the edge of your blanket in front of your mouth, handing you some tissues and getting your tea cup ready.

"Easy, easy." He said softly, letting you blow your nose and trick shot it into the garbage can.

Price chuckles softly, handing you your tea, making sure you were sat up to drink. "Sorry I didn't tell you guys earlier." You said before nearly swallowing all the tea.

"Its alright. You'll tough it out."

You smile softly and nod. "Yeah, I guess I'll be ok. Just gotta get better." You swallowed the last of your tea and relaxed again. Price took the cup from you, running his hand gently over your forehead, feeling your flushed skin.

"I'll get you some more tea."

"Thank you."

Price nodded and got up, leaving you and soon coming back with more tea. He placed it on the nightstand, seeing your eyes barely open. He caresses your cheek, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"You get some more rest kiddo." He whispered, leaving your room and gently closing the door.

You slept a majority of the day. Letting your body catch up from all the work you had been doing. And later toward the night you found yourself restless, congestion building up in your throat.

Coughing badly, your throat sore that everything hurt. You could barely lay still as you turned over in your blanket mess.

You groaned, hearing a knock on your door. "Come in." You coughed, sitting up and grabbing your tea to swallow it down.

Johnny and Gaz opened your door. "It sounds like you're dying in here." Gaz chuckled as he came over.

"Is it that loud??" You sniffled.

"Yeah, it is. We figured you wouldn't mind some company."

You groaned and shook your head. "I'll get you sick-" You coughed again, making Gaz cringe a little. "Hang on, give me a second." He rushed out of the room, leaving you with Johnny.

"We'll be ok. We just want to make sure you are comfortable and happy."

"Well... I'm not feeling very happy right now." You grimaced, sniffling and reaching for more tissues.

Johnny came over and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing your leg through the blanket. "But hey, you'll be back up on your feet soon. Just like always right?"

You huff. "That's what Price said."

"Old man's always right."

Gaz comes back with a pack of lozenges, pulling one out for you. "It should help a bit." You nod, taking it and popping it into your mouth. "Thank you."

Johnny crawls onto the bed, gently ruffling your hair and wraps his arms around you.

"Johnny.... I'll get you sick."

"Nonsense, John MacTavish doesn't get sick."

You sighed and closed your eyes, sinking back into it. It was nice. There wasn't much more room for Gaz on top of all the blankets, but his work was done, leaning down and kissing your temple and ruffling your hair before leaving.

"Night mates."

"Night Gaz." Johnny replied, smiling softly as you drifted back asleep in his arms.

Waking up the next morning you still felt bad. Bring woken up in a coughing fit, your throat feeling backed up and sore, like something was stuck.

You reached for your cup of tea, it was cold and bland now but you guzzled the last of it down to hope it would help.

Popping a lozenge as well for good measure. "Hell..." You rasped, laying back in bed.

And then you realized that Johnny wasn't with you anymore. You looked at the empty side of your bed, humming softly and closing your eyes. Maybe he couldn't sleep with all your incessant coughing.

Your eyes weren't closed for long before you heard a knock at your door.

"Come in!" Your voice cracked as the door opened and Simon came in. "Hello."

"Hey Ghost..." You sniffled, seeing something in his hands.

"What you got there?"

"Oh this?" He flipped the book in his hand. "Thought I'd read you a little mornin' story. Called Sadie and the Pink sock."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "You're a real prick, aren't ya?"

He grinned under the mask, you knew. He sat down on the edge of your bed. "I'm kidding. Soap said I needed to... so I brought an old horror book."

"Simon... not horror."

Simon clicked his tongue, flicking to the first page. "What a coincidence it's about a person who gets a very disgusting sickness and- well I'll just read it to you."

You shivered, but you knew you weren't getting out of it. And horror or not, Simon's voice was soothing to listen to in the right tone.

You hummed, closing your eyes and settling back into bed as Simon began to read.

And somewhere along the way Gaz came in with breakfast. Helping you sit up and placing the plate of warm food in your lap, and a side bowl of warm chicken noodle soup on your nightstand.

Simon got a little comfier on your bed as he read the book. It honestly was pretty interesting, even if it was starting to get slightly gross.

You couldn't complain with getting pampered, it was such an interesting switch. That and how most of them were entirely unwilling to entertain the idea of ever getting sick in their entire lifetime ever- coughsimoncough.

Anyhow.

This is how it went over the weeks. Simon sent to read you his book with a disinterested tone, pausing and making sure you were ok when you coughed. Making sure you got bathroom breaks and some exercise.

Gaz would bring you breakfast and food through the day.

Price would come to check up on you but had mostly taken on the duty of finishing up some of your work, he knew you'd appreciate it when this was all set and done.

But he came in to say goodnight like he always did and check in on you sometime in the morning.

Johnny could come and snuggle with you whenever you felt uncomfortable and wriggling around, unable to settle.

It was nice. It was really nice. They took good care of you.

The occasional time you threw up Simon panicked and grabbed your regular garbage can to use. Which quickly turned into him excusing himself to begrudgingly tie up the bag of vomit and go throw it out. You're lucky he didn't kill you right then and there... or make you take it out yourself.

Or the time you were snuggling with Johnny and coughed up a storm right into his chest, trying to apologize even before you had some tea, your head feeling dizzy from all the snot on top of that. But Johnny didn't mind, only telling you to get comfy, get out what you needed to.

Gaz made you chicken noodle soup with chicken chunks in it, and after seeing you guzzle down the minor change, added chicken chunks to each new bowl and flavored up the broth a little more. Making what you'd ask for if in advance and good for your body.

Price stopping in to give you updates, give little anecdotes on recruits or paperwork. And you laughed so hard your voice cracked again and you accidentally got snot all over him, all of t deciding to come out then.

Price didn't say anything to your face but politely excused himself. Leaving you to blow your nose until it hurt. But your head felt better after!

And when all was set and done, you finally woke up one morning, still feeling a little backed up in the head, but your throat was hardly as sore as before and your voice was back to normal. You smiled, getting up out of bed, feeling less dizzy, normal temperature.

You beat it!!

Yes!

You immediately rushed to tell the others-....

Where were the others??

The common area empty, offices, empty. You hummed. They would all definitely be up by now??

You saw Price eventually drag himself into the kitchen sniffling a little. "Hey y/n."

"Hey Price... where are the others?"

Price looked at you, and shrugged, going to make s coffee.

You frowned, going to investigate, you opened Johnny's door, only to find him droopy, sniffling and coughing.

Oh.

You went and found Gaz in his room, tucked in shivering in his blanket, sniffling and looking just as droopy.

Oh...

And Simon?? Simon Ghost Riley. Indestructible to all sicknesses. You opened his door a crack, seeing him passed out in bed with all the blankets piled on top of himself, and his garbage can full of crumpled tissues.

Oh.

Well you warned them. But perhaps you could try and safely pay them back for what they did for you. And hopefully, you wouldn't get sick again.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #captain john price x reader #can be seen as platonic or romantic

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[pixelatedraindrops]

MakoYuma Sick Day Art~🌡️💊

(Spoilers!!)

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Makoto and Yuma are both sick with the flu. So they decide to take a little sick day together in the CEO's living room on one of the sofas.

The thing is, Makoto actually was sick first, and Yuma went over and spent time taking care of him. But unfortunately this lead to him getting sick too and he has it slightly worse than Makoto.

So they get into comfortable pajamas, Makoto lending Yuma some of his spares in a different color, get wrapped up in blankets and try to lower their fevers and aid their headaches with ice and a compress respectively, they also make sure they both have their own box of tissues because BOTH of them are still pretty congested. Makoto is able to sit upright, however Yuma’s a little more dizzy so he has to lean against Makoto to keep himself steady.

Despite feeling ill, they both still try to keep working anyway. Yuma looks at case files from the WDO and Makoto looks at his email and makes sure he's caught up on current events in Kanai Ward. But it’s pretty difficult when you feel stuffy in your nose and your head! Nevertheless, they persist.

Yuma also orders some takeout from a restaurant nearby to be delivered. (since neither of them can cook) He gets himself some nice warm soup and gets Makoto some of kanai ward's special ramen. (because in his current weak state, he probably needs the proper nutrients) Thankfully despite the illness, they both had pretty solid appetites. (this may change in the following days)

They still try to make the day productive, but when you're sick its NOT easy! You need to sleep and rest, not work!! Well... a little sick day isn't going to stop the world's greatest minds from doing what they do. The sofa has now turned into a sickbed space for both of them.

They can try their best, but that flu's not going easy on them. It won’t go down without a fight.

I figured it was about time to torment both of my little targets at the same time! 🌡️😈 Decided to make it a little silly because...well they're both pretty silly lil' guys xD

Also don't ask why shinigami is there...she's just there because X’D (And shes sick too since she’s linked to Yuma lol)

Welp. It is flu season after all.

Everyone please take care of yourselves!! Don’t end up like these two! 🤧💦 lmao.

This will be the last art that I do for a while, so...why not make it a fun one? :3c

#once again posting it at an hour nobody will see it XD #rain code #master detective archives: rain code #rain code spoilers #whumpcode #yuma kokohead #makoto kagutsuchi #makoyuma #pixeldoodles #my art #sick art #sick comfort #illness whump #sick whump #it may as well be a slumber party lol #except its not fun its miserable #but at least they can go through it together :3 #this was fun to draw :3 came out better than I thought #but once again makoto’s penthouse is a nightmare #im hoping the background looks okay ;-; #either way I love them my two little blorbos <3 #they look adorable when they’re absolutely wrecked w illness hehe :3c #also yes I made yuma sicker because he’s my prime target xD

[buggyswritingcorner]

Could I request Rhaenyra x Velaryon!reader in a kinda soulmate au where their dragons become a mated pair, which is a sign from the (Valyrian) gods that their riders are meant to be together, and Nyra and reader’s bonds with their dragons end up transferring to include each other, so they can feel each other’s emotions and pain, just like with their dragons, and it draws them together? Maybe some smut?

Hand in hand, wing by wing

Heyy sorry this is late lol. I’ve had no motivation. Anyway you didnt specify gender so i did it as GN as i could but reader wears a dress one time. Hope you like it!

masterlist

Word of your dragons’ mating was brought to you no longer than a day ago. Some guards spotted Aegarax - your grown dragon soaring the skies alongside Syrax. 

Your family has recently journeyed to King’s Landing. Your mother - the king’s cousin has offered your hand to the king and you had been proposed the match by the king himself in the royal gardens. You were not delighted with this revelation yet still performed as a flawless heir to Driftmark should. 

Now it was days later and the proposal seemed to have been forgotten. Thankfully. These days you spent most of your time with the crown princess Rhaenyra. You had always been suitable for each other. Since you were just babes you played and shared toys. Sometimes even beds after playdates.

“Ehm ehm.” Your thoughts were interrupted by none other. 

“Princess Rhaenyra.” You bowed your head in mock respect. 

In turn she rolled her eyes and linked her arm around your elbow.

“Did you hear it?” She inquired cheerfully. “Our dragons are rumored to be mated.” She raised her eyebrows with mischief evident on her face.

“Really? I had no idea.” You pretended to not know. Playing with her emotions was far too much fun. The princess could never hide her true feelings. She frowned and then lit up.

“No matter, now you know.” You continued walking the halls of the red keep. Initially you were headed for the kitchens in hopes of stealing a lemon cake or two. But the princess was headed elsewhere, which meant you would follow her.

“Let us go for a ride no?” She smiled and quickened her pace. Once outside calling for a carriage. 

You both stared out of the windows of the carriage looking at the common folk and whispering gossip about the royal court men and women. You never laughed with anyone as much as you did with the princess. 

The carriage stopped as you arrived at the Dragonpit. You took the princess’s hand as you climbed out of the carriage and headed for your dragons. They were readied for flight in no time.

Your dragon was much bigger than Rhaenyra’s easily being able to carry up to three riders. But you had to admit that Syrax carried a queenly attitude. The two dragons snuggled their noses and sniffed around each other. Rhaenyra laughed at them and then directed her gaze to you. You smirked at the heart shaped piece of armor on Syrax’s chest and took to flight. 

The weight of the wings cut through the stuffy air and soon you were above the city soaring torwards the clouds. Your white hair whipped in the currents of air. Soon Rhaenyra emerged beside you.

“Isn’t this far better?” She yelled so you could hear her.

“Undeniably princess!” You loved being free like this. Unchained, soaring far away from the problems of the little men beneath you. 

Suddenly Rhaenyra led Syrax closer to you and bumped her wing across Aegarax’s. 

“Hey!” You startled. “What was that for?”

“Because you didn’t tell me my father proposed a wedlock between you two!”

You sighed as you stared across her face, studying her expression. Was she angry? Or maybe she was hurt you didn’t tell her?

“I didn’t want to burden you with something that might not even happen! He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“You still could’ve told me. Anyway I do not think this marriage agreeable. You two are not fit for each other! I would be a much better match don’t you think? “Her grin was now as wide as her face and you could not help laughing.

She watched as your laughter died out. Then she asked again. “Don’t you think so?” 

You stared at her in confusion. Then you thought about it. It was true that an heir to Driftmark and the crown Princess of the realm would make a strong political match. But somehow you didn’t think this was entirely out of political reasons. 

You’ve avoided your own feelings for the princess for too long to know what they were. Always blaming it on being young. But what were your feelings on this matter?

“I believe we would make a strong match Rhae!” You grinned at her. She looked regal and beautiful yet disheveled with her blonde hair pulled into a loose braid.

And you could never forget how she smiled that day.

Weeks later the king announced that he sould wed Alicent the hand’s daughter. And a rock fell from your chest. 

Rhaenyra took this news dreadfully. She avoided Alicent and her father. Now you were her only ally in the world. 

You became more intrigued by your Aegarax’s relationship with Syrax. He circled around her at most times and they were reported to rarely be seen apart. When attempted to separate the two would turn agressive and protective. 

You yourself have started experiencing certain sudden changes in mood. These changes felt hazy like a dream. Like they were not your own.

You shook these thought off and focused.

You were adorned by a blue gown. Today was the official dinner to celebrate the proposal of the king. Your parents were a bit offended and kept muttering about their child being far more beautiful and wiser than Alicent. You just threw them sharp looks.

As you were headed to the royal hall for the banquet you noticed Rhaenyra standing in the shadows of the hall. 

“What are you doing?” She just looked at you, grabbed your hand and started leading you the other way far from the royal hall.

“Come with me. I don’t want to spend tonight with those hypocrites.”

“Alright fine, you could’ve just asked me no need to sweep me away.”

She shot you a look and continued leading you to her chambers. Once inside she finally relaxed and locked the door. 

She walked towards the balcony. And stood silently watching the city candle lights being lit one by one as the sun set over the horizon.

“Rhae?” You whispered.

“How could he do this?” She sniffled. “And then expect me to celebrate him?”

You walked closer and put your hands on her shoulders, placing your head upon one. 

“People are strange. Your father needs a supportive wife. Or he will fail. Maybe he sees that in Alicent. I’m sorry either way but this doesn’t have to mean an end of your friendship.”

You spun her around to face you. 

Her eyes glimmered with tears daring not to spill over. Then she spoke.

“You know what the people whisper?”

“I don’t concern myself with the opinions of sheep.” You smiled. “Neither should you.”

“In old Valyria it was believed that when two dragons mate, their riders are destined to each other. Syrax has laid eggs.” She stared into your eyes unwavering.

Your breath was stuck in your throat. Did she mean you and her were…?

Your faces closed in closer and closer. You could feel her breath on you lips as your eyes closed slowly. First she kissed the corner of your mouth. Then your left cheek.

Your hands snaked around her waist hugging her tightly. Her kisses trailed all over your face and neck. You could bear it no more. You grabbed her face and kissed her lips. Stumbling you pushed her onto the stone wall on the balcony.

A light breeze flowed through your clothes. She had worn a simple light dress and her body was now shivering with lust. 

You took her with you onto the ground and kissed every inch of her. She flipped both of you and started running her hands around your body. Caressing the curves and sharp edges.

Her hands worked on your clothes. Until your top half was bare to her. And the you unclothed her. Both of you couldn’t speak. You were too lost in this little world of yours’. Harsh breaths echoed from the walls.

She pinched your nipples between your teeth and you gasped in fresh air. Your throat was dry and you loved her so much. 

You loved her.

Like the wind. Like the sea. You loved her like a huriccane and you would not let her go.

So you told her. “I love you my princess.” 

She sighed contently as your fingers reached her opening. All those years of longing and silent loving gushed out.

“I love you too.” She smiled feverishly. Her face was red and contrasted again her pale hair. 

She took your hands and joined them with hers. 

“The Gods have blessed us. Let us not waste time.” Then she leaned down and caught your lips once more.

#rhaenyra x reader #house of the dragon #oneshot #rhaenyra targaryen #fluff #smut #rhaenyra smut #velaryon reader

[mysticballoonbouquet]

tips for ~discreet~ age regression 💖

hello friends! age regression/age dreaming can be a wonderful coping mechanism. sometimes it’s voluntary, and sometimes it’s not. but if you ever find yourself regressing or needing to regress to get away from a stressful situation but must be discreet about it for any reason, here are some tips ☺️

🦄 reusable water bottles. there are ones available that have sippy spouts, but if that’s too on-the-nose for your situation, there are lots of cute options! even just buying a standard metal reusable water bottle and putting waterproof stickers with your favorite characters (bluey, hello kitty, etc.) can help you feel small discreetly (and keep you hydrated, which is very important!).

🍼 small stuffie keychains. if you are unable to have or bring a stuffie with you, these are great for clipping on your bag/purse/backpack! they’re sold in lots of places (i got one at a craft store!) and their cuteness can help bring a smile to your face ☺️ since they’re keychains, i don’t think anyone would give it a second thought. and you can have a cute friend to bring on your adventures (or even just to class!)

🦄 make a folder for apps that make you feel small on your phone. I currently have a folder on my phone specifically for apps that make me feel tiny! since they’re kept in their own separate folder, you can really immerse yourself in your regression without worrying about distractions.

🍼 cute jewelry! jewelry can be worn by anyone of any gender! bracelets, necklaces, rings, etc., made of cute pastels, charms of your favorite character, or rainbows (or anything of any aesthetic that helps you feel small!) ! if someone asks why you’re wearing it, you can just say that you just thought it was a cute fashion statement! don’t be afraid to be yourself, friends ☺️

🦄 fidget toys (but fidget rings especially!) fidget toys are very commonplace now. but if you’re in a situation (school, for example) where you can’t bring in a toy, a fidget ring can work wonders! this one kinda ties back into the last point above, but fidget rings can be super soothing and super discreet since they look like standard jewelry!

🍼 make a playlist of songs that make you feel tiny! whether it be disney songs, fun instrumentals, or anything else you’d like, feel free to make a playlist of it and relax and feel small ☺️ you don’t have to share your playlist, you can make it private if you’d like! whatever helps you feel the most comfortable 💖

🦄 carry some of your favorite small snacks or candies (or even gum!) everybody needs to eat for energy and to stay healthy! i recommend, even to those who don’t regress, to carry a small snack with you if possible in case you get hungry! if you are unable to carry snacks, try your favorite gum flavor! as a bonus, if you are unable to have a paci, sucking on your favorite hard candies or lollipops can help too! (be sure to brush your teeth after eating candy though! cavities are never fun.)

🍼 cute toiletries! get some lotion of your favorite color or scent, for example! they also sell yummy smelling chapstick (I was at a cvs the other day and they had cotton candy chapstick!)!

the bottom line is to do whatever makes you happy! i personally love pink and pastel, but i know that’s not for everyone, and that’s okay! being a hidden age regressor can be hard, especially if it’s your main coping mechanism, but you are so incredibly strong, and you can get through anything life throws at you. i believe in you, and please continue to be your wonderful self!

#agere blog #sfw agere blog #agere #sfw agere #age regression #age regressor #age regressor blog #age regression blog

[miffy1111]

Fish in a Birdcage

cross posted onto Ao3 (Account is Miffy_1111)

Tw! -Gross wounds, bugs in said gross wounds, violence and death Also fun fact when I was writing this, I grinded a little too hard (on this as well as a million others fics) and got a weirdly painful ganglion cyst in my wrist and it is currently stuck in a wrist brace for the next week or so :p so the end of chapter 1, the editing process and all this stuff here has been typed one handed, so I apologise for any mistakes. This was really fun to write, and I'm excited to get the second chapter out! This chapter here is basically a look into the past and why he'll be silly next chapter, Also I haven't gotten to book 7 yet so I apologise if General Lilia is ooc! Please let me know in the comments what you think, Im pretty new to writing so I'm always happy to hear what you think!

(Word Count: 3847)

1/2 Chapters

i. Damnation: condemnation to eternal punishment in hell. To be doomed to suffer in hell forever.  - do this one for the last word thing lol

The sun felt warm. Its heat soaked into Lilias's armour, making it feel rather stuffy to stand in the forest clearing. He couldn't see any reflection of himself in the lake before him, however he knew his cheeks were flushed. As a nocturnal fae, he hadn’t spent much time outside during the day, either training indoors or sleeping. 

However, due to the diurnal nature of humans, he often found himself needing to be up when the sun was. 

He pulled up his hood to shield himself and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He looked down on the human soldier below him, the cheeks of their face- left unconcealed by their metallic helmet, were also a reddish colour under the unforgiving rays of the sun.

During a patrol in the forest that further deprived him of much-needed sleep, a familiar yet unfamiliar scent caught his attention. It was heavily metallic, with undertones of bitter red wine. He followed the scent towards the mossy shores of a lake, where he saw a figure lying, body half in the water.

 Crimson leached into the lake from beneath them, the source of which was a large rather gorey-looking cut in their side. They looked to be a human soldier, a low-ranking one at that. The only armour they wore was a spangenhelm and a chainmail shirt, their dark blue aketon covering the rest of their arms. A shield bearing King Henricks emblem was half-sunk in the shallows of the lake, Lilia taking it as a sign.

Looking at the human soldier, Lilia noticed magenta scorch marks on the edges of broken chainlinks, indicating that the weapon used was likely enchanted. He also estimated by the blowflies laying eggs and chewing through the wound, that the soldier would have been here for a few hours, at least 4. Lilia knew that blowfly eggs took anywhere between 8-20 hours to mature to maggots, which the wound was devoid of.

A series of wheezy coughs snapped Lilia back to reality, as the soldier attempted to lift themself with their elbow, hand just barely clutching a broken sword.

“Just kill me. To die by the likes of you… is a better fate than this,” Their voice was hoarse, and shortly after they spoke they broke into another coughing fit, more blood dribbled from their side from the movement.

Lilia looked at the soldier, eyes narrowing as he scowled, “Silence soldier! I will not have a human such as yourself command me,” 

Lifting his boot to their head, he swiftly kicked off the helmet that covered their face, not bothering to avoid their nose. The soldier groaned in pain, the arm that lifted them gave in to cradle their seemingly-broken nose, blood trickling down their pale olive-toned skin. 

Though Lilia hated humans, he truly hadn’t aimed to further injure the soldier- he just wanted to get a better look at their face, without the barrier of the helmet. His eyes raked over their newly revealed features. 

The human soldier's gender was indiscernible, and their face was wet and speckled with dirt, with dark curly hair just barely touching their shoulders. 

Despite their nose being rather crooked due to the far-too-much force of his kick, Lilia could see its aquiline shape, different from the typical straight-pointed ones common in their comrades. Their jaw was clenched hard and they looked at him, dark eyes squinted in pain, as shaky hands attempted to lift their sword at him. 

He grabbed the sword by the handle, taking it from their hands and throwing it into the lake. The human soldier was no danger to him, this was just an example he would make. Grabbing onto the wrist that once held the sword, he hoisted them over his shoulder- ignoring their groans of pain, and walked back into the woods to return to the camp. 

The position was awkward for the both of you, the soldier was completely limp, so the tips of their boots smacked against his calves with each step, and he had to focus on his steps so that the both of your legs wouldn’t tangle together.  

Despite Lilias' disgust at the thought of having to save a human (especially one from the blonde bastard's side), he needed information, and if they survived they could be useful.

After another series of painful-sounding coughs that left little specks of blood on Lilias's armour, the soldier spoke up with a strained voice, “Where are you taking me,”

“You’ll see, try anything and I’ll leave you back there to perish,” he grunted out, eyeing the tiny red speckles that trickled down his torso. 

They went quiet.

Premonitory: A warning about something unpleasant before it happens. 

When Lilia arrived at his quadrant's temporary base, he barged into the healer's tent, curtly described the soldier's condition and why they were to live, dumped them in front of the healer and left. 

As he walked over to his tent, he looked at where the soldier had coughed on him. The splotches of blood left on his armour turned a strange almost burgundy colour, and turning as far as he could to see his back, a large patch, more purple in tone, was left there from their side.

As he tried to wipe as much of it off as possible, a sense of foreboding washed over him. It was no doubt just by looking at the state of their armour that they fell victim to something enchanted, however, there was no telling what effect such a weapon would have on them, or if they would even survive.

—

Around 4 weeks later, Lilia was called to the hospital tent, a mere blink in time for the fae. While at times he was left morbidly curious about the soldier's fate, it wasn’t something he lost sleep on. 

As he arrived he scanned over the room, ruby-red eyes searched like an owl hunting a rabbit. Only to find that they weren’t there. He looked accusingly at the now-trembling healer. 

His scowl had done all the talking for him, as the healer finally began to stutter out an explanation

“Ah-h! General Vanrouge, the human soldier, she was sent off to the dungeon in Black Scale Castle as of yesterday. They asked me to tell you to go… there for questioning,” he grew meek as he continued, irritation evident on Lilias's face.

“I see…” Lilia said calmly, confusion washing over the healer, “And the thought hadn’t come across you to tell me this, several days ago?!” his calm disposition quickly disappeared as he raised his voice, the healer quickly muttering something about him not finding out till this morning. 

Lilia sighed and shook his head, his features softening as his anger fizzled out, “Nevermind that, how was their health?”

“Ah yes! I suspect th-that they were hit with a spell, maybe corrosion magic? B-but! It hadn’t gone so far into their system that I couldn’t somewhat heal them, they were rather difficult to deal with…” he spoke with both constant stuttering and muttering, things that Lilia found rather irritating back in his youth. 

“Oh! Also, t-the nature of their illness, i-its similar to… something like, say mould for example,” The healer's shy nature crumbled away as a grim expression washed over his freckled face, “Once it's there, its roots slowly spread throughout the host. Meaning that- though it is a trace amount- there are still roots of the magic inside them. I give them a few months at best,” 

Lilia nodded, all the more reason to get the interrogation done sooner rather than later, “I understand,”

___

It took him almost 2 days to get to Black Scale Castle, with the first day spent being pestered by the Senate to receive permission and the second spent travelling without rest. Upon arriving at the castle, he was immediately sent to the dungeons. 

Looking at the soldier through the bars of their current prison, they seemed ever so slightly better than when he had last seen them. A torso covered by layers of chainmail and aketon was replaced with a hemp-cloth shirt, as were their linen pants, both several sizes too large. He could spy bandages wrapped around their shoulder and left arm, as well as around their chest. The air smelt of wet stone and medicinal herbs.

The dungeon itself was poorly lit and dank, and each cell was only made accessible through a wooden door, with a slot for food trays to slide through on the bottom. The only light let into each cell was a small barred window at the top of the door, however after looking through, Lilia could spy a rectangular (also barred) window at the top right corner of the cell.

The dungeon was practically desolate, he almost felt a sliver of empathy for the human. Almost.

Holding a torch, Lilia opened the door to the human soldier's cell and prepared for what was to come.

iii. Ephemeral: Something that lasts a short duration of time, a fleeting moment, a brief period in time. 

His eyes pierced through them, attempting to either read them with a single glare or intimidate them into submission. It was always unnervingly quiet in the dungeon, all sound almost completely sucked up by the stone walls. It should have been considered a miracle that someone hadn’t gone insane in there. 

The soldier's face remained downcast, however, he could sense their vulnerable state. Dark circles were prominent underneath their eyes, however their skin was less sickly-pale than when he last saw them.

Lilia crouched down beside them on the stone floor and lifted their chin to meet their gaze

“You will call me General Vanrouge from this moment forth. You will answer my questions with nothing but the truth, fail to do so- and the punishment will be beyond any pain you’ve ever felt. Now state your name and rank, human,” he said, pointed teeth bared.

The way the soldier looked glaring upwards at him, jaw clenched and nose crinkled in disgust, such attitude flared the faes temper. 

“I am a low-ranking soldier, I was given the name Siro,” Despite the scowl on their face, the human spoke without malice in their voice. They made themself seem small against the cold stone, and even though their stare was poisonous, they almost wanted to look submissive. 

“And what were you doing in fae territory? I’m sure even the daftest of your kind would know that that forest is strictly overseen by fae,” he asked, no lack of his prior harshness

“I was given the wrong directions to camp, and I wound up by the lake you found me at. If you want to blame anyone- please, blame my commanding officer, Lucius,” they spoke with a flat voice, and even though Lilia wished he did, he couldn’t feel any indication of them lying.

“What a fool” He replied, “Now, tell me everything you know,” This was Lilias's favourite part of the interrogation. A human soldier's pride and ego often knew no bounds, so breaking them in was a lengthy process the Lilia thoroughly enjoyed. To wipe their dreadful smirks from their faces and tear that awful look of hope from their eyes. 

The soldier, Siro, looked up at him with an unreadable expression, opening and shutting their mouth as if continually deciding not to say something- like a fish gasping for air. 

Lilia moved his hand to his weapon, a threat to hurry things along.

“I-I! Uhm,” Siro quickly cleared their throat, “I don’t believe anything I know would be of use to you. I am of the lowest rank, so I am not trusted with important information,” They blurted out. 

Siro almost looked panicked. They clearly knew what became of hostages that weren’t of any use. Lilia once again almost felt bad for them. Even though Lilia revealed in their fear, it would be a pain to find yet another human soldier

“Well then, I want what little you do know, as well as how you came to be attacked. Surely you weren’t foolish enough to go alone into the forest?” 

“I was sent on my own. Before my unit made our way back to camp, my officer pulled me aside and asked me to stay and sharpen my sword on one of the rocks. It must have been a prank, as I only realised later well after everyone left that all the swords were sharpened only yesterday. He gave me a map as well, but it must have been the wrong one as I wound up at that lake,” Siro explained with a bitter edge to their voice and a glare in their eye. One that Lilia wanted to slap clean off.

Cruel pranks like those weren’t uncommon in human armies. Hazing, he believed it was called. Lilia could only imagine the officers all giggling together, telling each other ways to make fools of their subordinates. Lilia only wished he could see the look on the officer's face as the weeks rolled by and Siro was nowhere to be seen. Another one of their pathetic soldiers gone.

“Such pranks are common in human armies, I hear. Humans truly are foolish. You would have died out there,” He replied “Now, how did you come to be injured,”

“I don’t remember. I was by the lake looking around for anyone I may have known, then next thing I knew, I was in some healer's tent with a broken nose and a chunk out of my side,” they said.

“How strange…,” Lilia said, avoiding Siro’s eyes at the mention of their nose. 

An hour went by, and nothing more than basic questions and answers were shared. He hadn’t learned much, however they were far more cooperative than other humans he had interrogated.

As he prepared to leave the cell and return to his duties, Siro spoke up, “Was that enough for you? When will I be permitted to leave,” They asked him.

“I assume till either the war finishes or you do. Perhaps if you continue to behave I might be able to send you to a prison of… better quality,” He said, looking around the dank cell to further his point, “However it is out of my control,”

They looked at him, shoulders slumped as their standard glare was replaced with a melancholic gaze, “I understand”

iii. Wasting: Causing a person or a body part to become progressively weaker and more emaciated, typically by a wasting disease

As the months passed, Lilia (much to his dismay) often found himself returning to the dungeon. The first few times it was purely for information, however as time went on he slowly became more and more curious about them as a person. However, he wasn’t sure how long he could continue saying he was just curious.

Siro, the lowly soldier, no longer had any name of their own. Their birth name was Mariam, born a girl in a place they no longer remembered. The soldiers who raided their village assumed them to be a boy, only realising after a week their mistake. Their name had already been changed to Siro, and so they were brought up as a boy.

They would never be able to return to their family, all slaughtered in a land now foreign to them. Their sister, Arev, Siro assumed was still alive, as she too was taken. Siro had told Lilia with eyes as dead as a fish how it was obvious Arev was a girl, and a beautiful one at that. He knew to read between the lines and assume that she had been taken to be some soldier's wife; a war prize. Such was one of the many things about humans that disgusted Lilia.

After they had been taken, they were banned from their language. The commanding officer Lucius, the one who played that rather cruel prank on them, was the one who taught them how to speak the common language. Lucius never had a son, so he helped raise Siro, and despite his somewhat cruel tendencies, Siro never said much on their feelings about Lucius, and Lilia never asked.

Being born a girl and raised a boy, Siro never really saw themself as either. They weren’t ashamed of what they were born as, nor were they embarrassed about what they were raised as. They were simply just a person, they had told him once.

Lilia hated how he remembered everything they told him, how he soaked up their words and near reveled in the sound of their strained voice. 

Siro the human soldier. Truly an example of how cruel fate can be. Born in a place to a peoples that weren’t seen as human enough, forever fated to being a glorified slave. They were a slave to their own race, and they would be chained in this prison for the rest of their life. Chained to him. Despite the change in scenery, they would never be free, something they never truly accepted, even through their growing weakness.

The months went on, and both him and Siro slowly became consumed. The former, his mind- as it became overrun with the thoughts of Siro, and the latter, their body. As the months passed, deep purple veins became more and more prominent across their skin, which too grew to be a sickly pale. Their eyes looked glazed over and dark circles emerged underneath despite their frequent sleeping. Their body, though already thin when they were first found, grew even more so as their muscles fizzled away. They knew they were dying, and their appetite dwindled to the point Lilia had to come by every day to force food and water down their throat. He was never soft with them, and though he would say it was due to his hatred he knew deep down that he was in denial.

As the seasons changed and the weather grew colder, so did the cell. The cold had gotten to Siro, as their hands were even more clammy and their nose became stuffy and red.

When Lilia came to visit again, a spare blanket hidden behind his back, he found them shivering in the corner. The blanket draped over their shoulders was thin, a hole torn near the middle meant that it was doing little to provide warmth. 

Silently, Lilia draped the extra blanket over them, averting his gaze from the purple roots creeping across their face. The healer said himself, they would likely only live a few months, and it was a miracle they made it past 8. Siro wouldn’t live to see the end of the week.

​​As Lilia laid in bed that night, he regretted leaving that cell. Though Siro had an extra blanket, a twinge of guilt tugged at him. What if that was the last time he ever saw them? What if they were lying on that uncomfortable straw mattress, Lilias blanket wrapped around them as they breathed their la​​st breath? He tried to shake away those thoughts, they were nothing but a pathetic human!

He wasn’t sure what he would say, to his superiors, to himself, as he snuck into their cell. The opening and shutting of the heavy wooden door didn’t stir them from their sleep as it used to, and Lilia immediately went to check their breathing. 

He kneeled down and checked everything twice over; their soft pulse, the slow rise and fall of their chest, the laboured breaths that left their nose. He let out a sigh of relief, hand going to stroke their thinning- now wavy- hair. A strange feeling sat heavy in his chest. Why was he even doing this? He must look like a fool, he thought as he smiled at their sleeping face. 

Would they want to die here? He quickly shook the thought from his mind, he could only imagine the outrage from the senate if they found out he released an enemy soldier without written consent. Even if they were sick and dying, it wouldn’t be allowed.

Siro roused from their slumber with a painful sounding cough, more of that purple mucus splattering against their hand like phlegm. The roots had taken place in their lungs not long ago, shown by their recent difficulty in breathing. They looked up at him, tired and disoriented, “Lilia, is that truly you?” 

Lilia wasn’t sure what had got into him, his hand trailed down from their dark strands to gently hold the side of their face. He merely nodded then hushed them, a tenderness he had never felt before overwhelmed him, the feeling like a tide washing over him, blocking words from his mouth. They slowly pushed themself up till they sat up before them, opening their blanket so that Lilia could find warmth in there too. 

Intimacy, his first taste in a while. He cosied up next to them, allowing them to rest their head on his shoulder. Maybe Lilia was just tired, but he was finally able to ignore his internal feelings of disgust, of hatred towards Siro.

Suddenly his arms were wrapped around them, suddenly they were playing with his hair; suddenly their lips met and they both fell completely silent. An all-consuming warmth washed over him, silencing his doubts. They weren’t slowly dying before him, they weren’t a soldier from the enemy side, and they would be able to kiss like this again. The stoney walls of the dungeon disappeared around the two of them as his tongue slipped into their mouth. They ran their fingers down black and red strands of hair, then shakily caressed his cheek. 

It was unfortunate that all good things came to an end. Their body suddenly became too weak to hold itself up, and they crashed back into their bed, ending the kiss. They coughed again, it racked through their body as purple veins in their neck began to bulge slightly. They were in pain, it was only right.

With one last strained breath, they were gone. No final words were spoken, neither did Lilia say anything else. There was no point in shedding any tears or screaming out with regret, and even though his heart cried out, Lilia merely sat, still and silent as the stone walls around him.

He would have preserved them if he could, however, there was a war, and as the Silver Owls closed in, he had to have them cremated. Lilia had tried to find their sister, Arev, however he hadn’t the time or resources to do anything beyond scour through a few official records. He knew Siro would have wanted their ashes to be spread, Great Sevens, that was one of their dying wishes. Call him selfish, but something inside him couldn’t let go of them yet. They would have to wait a few more years, he would tell himself, to at least let his grief pass.

Siro, the human soldier, forever left longing for their freedom.

End of Part 1

I hope you enjoyed! Sorry if this was straight ass, this is only my second work in this fandom lol. The second chapter might not be released for a hot minute as I'm currently both flooded with school work and! stuck wearing a wrist brace for the next week or so. Stay well and stay hydrated!

#twisted wonderland #twst #lilia vanrouge #twst fanfic #lilia vanrouge x reader #Lilia Vanrouge x OC #yandere lilia vanrouge #second chapter will be more yandere #general lilia #hopefully not ooc

[putschki1969]

『Wakana 5th Anniversary “Prologue” ～Premium Online Live～』

An exclusive streaming event will be held for fan club members to celebrate Wakana's 5th anniversary as a solo artist. She will be joined by Hirotaka Sakurada on piano. Please be sure to tune in!

‖Event details “Wakana 5th Anniversary “Prologue” ~Premium Online Live~” Date: February 6, 2024 Time: 18:30~ Starring: Wakana, Hirotaka Sakurada (Piano)

‖Ticket details Ticket sales: Bitfan Tickets Live streaming: Bitfan Live [Purchase period] January 10th to February 12th ●Event viewing ticket ¥3,800 (tax included) ※For FC members ONLY ※An archived version will be available for viewing at the streaming URL after the live broadcast. You can watch it until February 13th. ❗ Join her FAN CLUB NOW! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗ In order to buy a ticket, please refer to the tutorial provided by Botanical Land! I have also written my own tutorial for a previous FC event so feel free to check that out! Bitfan is a very foreigner-friendly platform so be sure to use this opportunity!

Oh yes, I am excited for this. I think Wakana is planning to do a lot for her 5th Anniversary. Hopefully she can hold a proper tour. This event will definitely be a perfect "prologue". Also happy to see Saku-chan again.

2024/01/10 Blog post by Wakana おしゃべりガーデン第５回目！〜その１〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ Do ❗NOT SHARE❗ on other sites ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Talk Garden Vol. 5！〜Part 1〜

"Wakana's Talk Garden Vol.5" has been uploaded! This time, I intended to talk about both the messages I received on the talk theme and the comments on my latest blog post...but I just didn't have enough time😂💦 Just talking about the comments from my blog post ended up taking 45 minutes...😅 I didn't even mention the messages for the regular talk theme...😅 It's all because I don't prepare in advance with some sort of script or rough schedule🫠🫠I'm so sorry! ! 😂💦

Due to the length, I made a “Vol#5 Part①” in which I only talk about the blog comments🤣 “Vol#5 Part②” will be uploaded at a later date, on that podcast I will be focusing on reading the messages for the original talk theme 🧚✨

The comment section was full of everyone's thoughts and feelings, I had a really hard time reading through all of them, I actually cried so many times that I had a stuffy nose. Despite that, I am happy that you shared your thoughts with me, I felt like I could relate to everyone in my own way. Thank you so much.

When I read that many of you are seeking music as a source of comfort in times like this, I wanted nothing more than to sing for you right away. Which is why I was more than happy to be able to announce an online broadcast for February 6th. I would like to have a fun time with everyone at my first live show of this year, February 6th marks the 5th anniversary of my solo debut. I'm really looking forward to it! ! (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))

Oh, by the way. I forgot to announce the next talk theme during the new episode, the talk theme for "Talk Garden Vol.6" scheduled to air on February 10th will be: "Memories of Valentine's Day"! I can't wait to read all your sweet and funny stories, of course you can also send me all of your sad stories ! ＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

Well, please enjoy the episode even though it's long♪

Until next time~☆( *'▽’*)／

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

Wakana’s Talk Garden #4 & #5

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ Do ❗NOT SHARE❗ on other sites ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Episode #4 »»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——«« Episode #5 Part 1 »»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——««

Vol 4 Topic “Things I should do before the end of they year but somehow, I turn a blind eye to it”

Vol 5 Topic "Please let me hear your current thoughts"

For next month’s episode which is scheduled to air on February 10th, the topic is “Memories of Valentine's Day.” The submission deadline is 01/31.

#kalafina #wakana #wakana blog #news #Wakana 5th Anniversary “Prologue” ~Premium Online Live~ #botanical land #fan club exclusive content #Wakana's Talk Garden #hearing Wakana tear up always hits me right in the feels

[bangtansmauyeondan]

THIRTY-FIVE | S03 E05 - A Second Chance

Pairing: In-Studio Director!Jungkook x Stage Director!Fem Reader

Genre: rivals au, social media au, frenemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, crack.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of abandonment, alcohol consumption, harmless scheming, dare, bet, smut

Summary: It has always been the battle of the best between you and your college rival, Jungkook. What happens when years later, you cross paths again working for the same network broadcasting company, and the competitive flame is rekindled? Well, a whole new drunken bet that determines your futures wasn’t in your line of vision but here you are… and you have until 35.

SERIES TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @babyboo22 @dionysusenthusiast @luaspersona @timelessruins @royallyjjk @sandraviolante-blog @quarter-life-crisis2 @jub-jub @pb-n-juju @jeonxgoogiee @sugaluvmyg @lookformyvoice @fairy-jaykay @juju-227592 @such-a-wh0re @hoseoksluv89 @exhibitachol @kleirielk @era-genius @hyuneyeon

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @jinsquishes @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88 @bnagtanx1306 @pinkseokchim @busanbby-jjk @babycandy111

•••

•••

The Seoul Institute of Art & Design’s fiftieth anniversary concert was about to come to an end, and to say that you’re satisfied with the outcome of the event was an understatement. There were a lot of people in attendance, alumni and current students alike. Rkive 360 was able to book the biggest names in the local music scene to participate in the event; one of the artists even graduated from SIAD, which made the experience even more meaningful.

You were so busy looking around, gazing up at the audience that you didn’t notice Jungkook and Mingyu talking in hushed voices a few feet away from you. Not even a minute later, Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulders and patted your head endearingly, “Having fun, boss?”

“Meh…” You tilted your head, shrugging off Mingyu’s arm.

“Tsss… liar!”

“Okay, yeah, a bit!” You giggled, and it sounded like music to Jungkook’s ears who’s standing right behind you. “I’m just a little tired.”

Jungkook cleared his throat behind you, getting your attention, “Why don’t we take a breather outside? It’s getting quite stuffy in here.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu agreed. “I stepped out for a smoke earlier and the campus ground is pretty empty. You’ll enjoy the silence and the fresh air.” He took the radio from your hand and clipped it to his jeans, “Go with Jungkook. I’ll wrap this up.”

“Are you sure?” The offer sounded appealing to you.

“Yeah, go,” Mingyu nodded at the direction of the stage door. “I got this.”

“Let’s go, Yn…” Jungkook chimed in.

“Okay, let’s go…”

Mingyu has never been more correct. You immediately felt the gentle breeze of the wind on your skin the moment you stepped out of the packed arena into the empty campus grounds. From your viewpoint, you could see the rows of the sorority and the fraternity houses, the student dormitories, the art exhibit hall, and the lecture buildings that shaped you all up and honed your skills.

“Wow…” You whispered in awe as you walked by Jungkook’s side, looking around at your alma mater. “Has it really been more than ten years since we graduated?”

“Hmn…” he nodded, doe eyes also looking around.

“I wonder if our professors are still here… and if they still remember us.”

“Of course, they remember us. We were Roger and Rafa back then.” He laughed, scrunching up his nose like a bunny at the memory of your college rivalry. The tennis reference wasn’t lost on you since that’s the only sport you enjoy.

“You’re forgetting we had Mingyu…”

“Oh yeah, the Novak to our Roger and Rafa.” Jungkook brisk-walked ahead of you to that familiar curb where you have last seen each other before the graduation. “Hey, do you remember when…” he stuttered, he wanted to ask you if you remembered your kiss but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself too much.

“Huh?”

“Do you remember when Joshua’s parents threw him a party in our frat house as if it’s THEIR house and invited everyone?”

“Yeah!” You smiled fondly at the memory. How could you forget? Of course, you remember that night so well. “Definitely a fun night, one of my fondest memories.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s cheeks warmed up at your words. The lamppost where he kissed you came into view just then and Jungkook stopped in his tracks causing you to stop walking as well. “What is your fondest memory here, YN?”

You stepped closer to the lamppost, grazing the chipping paint with your dainty fingers, and Jungkook’s heart started ramming loudly inside his chest, silently wishing you remember the kiss as fondly as he does. “You see that exhibit hall?” You asked softly, cocking your eyebrows to the direction of the glass building across the street. “In the first year that they asked me to join the exhibit for the Arts Festival, I was the youngest girl and the only girl in Film too, but I got the most recognition.”

Jungkook couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your side profile was softly illuminated by the light coming from the lamppost, and your eyes were glimmering as you stared ahead at the exhibit hall.

“Yeah, I remember that arts festival…” He made a show of opening his arms out with his eyes closed, filling his lungs up with air before exhaling heavily, trying to get rid of the nerves before saying the following words to you out loud. “I tried to ask you out on a date on its first day.” He slipped his hands in his pockets before looking down on the ground, swaying from side-to-side.

You leaned against the lamppost, and you weren’t sure whether it’s the cold metal hitting your skin or Jungkook’s words that sent a cold shiver down your spine. “What?” You eyed Jungkook over a dubious expression. “What do you mean you tried to ask me out on a date?”

Jungkook furrowed his brows, a physical evidence that the wheels in his head were turning. He didn’t know how to explain what went on back then without sounding like a complete idiot. “Um…” he cleared his throat. “Yeah. i was going to ask you out but i ended up accidentally insulting you and well, you’ve hated me—”

You cut him off with a snort and the color drained from his face, a clear indication of his panic that he’s still being misunderstood twelve years later.

“You meant to ask me but insulted me instead?” You couldn’t help but laugh even though you noticed how hard your heart just started beating.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped and for a hot second he looked like a college boy again. “You aren’t supposed to laugh about it,” he whined with a pout, trying to meet your eyes. “It was traumatizing for me.”

You blinked at him for a moment, heart still racing and it’s getting harder to ignore. “For you?!” You stared at him incredulously, “How about for me? I was the one who was insulted!”

“No!” he quickly shook his head, the same pout still on his lips. “For me! I had to somehow come back from that moment when I had such a huge crush on you!”

Now it’s your turn to shake your head, “Of course Jeon Jungkook would make this a competition!" You huffed out quietly before asking, “So okay, you didn’t mean to insult me back then?”

“Of course not! I didn’t know how to fix it and my feelings and then… Then of course I kissed you and—"

“—Wait, wait, wait, wait…” you stared at him dumbfounded, blinking repeatedly. “You….you remember kissing me?"

Jungkook tilted his head in slight surprise and confusion before breaking into a more serious expression, eyes completely sucking you in, “You think that’s something I would forget?” he asked, voice soft and quiet.

A beat of silence fell between the two of you, but there’s a whole marching band and fanfare making all sorts of noise in your hearts.

You leaned your head back onto the lamppost but your eyes stayed on him. “So…” you took a breath, “You wanted to ask me out at that time?”

Looking at him had always been so easy but everytime his eyes would meet yours, you wanted to look away. But you didn’t, and neither did he.

“Yeah,” he sighed out.

You have a subtle nod, swallowing down the sudden nerves because your heart was clattering inside of your rib cage. “And….just at that time?”

Jungkook didn’t want to overthink, but he thought he understood what you were insinuating.

“Um,” he rocked back on his heels, “At that time? Yeah…?”

“Yeah, but was that the only time, or…?”

“Well,” he gulped. “Since I kissed you later on, then probably not.” He answered simply.

“Yeah but…” you gave a vague gesture with your hands.

Jungkook, ever the expert that he is for mimicking, did exactly just that. “But what?”

“But… you know.” You gestured around again, rolling your eyes for good measure too.

“I know what?”

Letting your frustrations get the better of you, you stepped closer to him and rested your hands on your waist. “Why didn’t you ask me out again?”

Jungkook suddenly looked antsy, eyes going around before he mumbled, “How could I? You already hated me.”

“But you still—“

A small smile played on his lips “—why? Do you want me to ask you out again?”

“I don’t mean NOW! I mean, like,” you crossed your arms over your chest, your heart now thumping loudly in your ears. “I was just saying…“

Jungkook boldly took a step closer to you, making you take a step back until your back met the lamppost again. You’re forced to tilt your head up slightly to Jungkook’s big doe eyes boring into your almond-shaped ones. “What were you saying then?” He whispered, his hot breath subtly hitting your cheek.

“I…”

“Tell me, Yn…”

“I just mean… You should have tried again…”

Jungkook studied your face before his fingers were on your jaw and he’s slowly guiding your head to face him properly.

“Would you have said yes?”

You felt the urge to turn your head again, or to even slide your eyes to the side but you couldn’t— not with his fingers on your jaw and his gaze sucking you in again.

“JK—“

“Would you have? Back then?” He cut you off, his voice ever so gentle. “At that time, I mean.”

“I’m not sure.” You answered honestly but with the way your heart was racing, you didn’t think that’s the question you wanted him to ask you. Jungkook gave you a small smile, his cheeks growing rosier. “Then maybe that timing wasn’t what was meant to be.” He shrugged, timid smile still on his face. “I really, really liked you and—“

“So you don’t anymore?” You had the guts to ask.

Jungkook chuckled to himself, his face burning up. “That’s kind of what you’ve been getting at right?”

The sudden wobble in his tone gave his nerves away. You couldn’t help but wonder if his heart is going as crazy as yours.

“Well I don’t know what I am getting at.” You admit nonchalantly.

“Then I also don’t know.” Jungkook said with a slight chuckle, biting his lip and tonguing his lipring.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Yes you do, so just say it.”

He narrowed his own eyes in response, “Say what?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!” Jungkook finally dropped his hand from your face. “What am I supposed to say?”

You averted your gaze away from him, your own pout forming. “Well…” you dropped your arms to your side and made another vague gesture. “You know.”

“I know?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook’s face only grew redder, “Wow I have already confessed so much yet—“

“What exactly have you confessed?” you mumbled, still averting his gaze. “You had a crush on me years ago but…” you gestured around again but jungkook quickly grabbed your wrist to stop you.

You’ve never been one to beat around the bush, but this is new. There’s something different between you both right now.

“YN, can you look at me?” He asked, and you managed to get lost in his eyes again. He had his lips caught between his teeth as he took a deep breath, bracing himself for another confession. “Okay,” he started. “I was so into you I… I asked you… Wait no, I tried to… Well, I failed at…” he started mumbling his words. You’re a hundred percent sure that if you touched his cheeks, your fingertips would burn. “Um, I kissed you that time and now here I am, remembering that time and well, and also…” The words are shameless as they poured out of his mouth, like he wasn’t fully aware of what he was trying to say.

You found it cute, that a grown man like him would be that affected. It’s endearing even. You watched his lips move up and down through his speech but you’ve drowned out his words because your focus wasn’t on them anymore. You finally ripped your eyes off his mouth and back to his eyes as you tried to make out his words again.

“So, it wasn’t that simple, how was I supposed to just ask you—“

Your fingers were quick to gently pull him closer to you by his neck. His words completely silenced when your lips met his. Jungkook melted into the kiss for a few seconds, clearly surprised by what you just did. But just like clockwork, he had you up against the lamppost, his hand was once again back on your jaw holding you gently, as he sought permission to deepen the kiss.

He rested his forehead against yours, chuckling and chasing after his breath after you pulled away.

“So if I asked you out again right now… Would you say yes?”

You giggled against his lips before curling your fingers on his shirt, pulling him in and kissing him again— up against the same lamppost where he kissed you on the night before graduation.

•••

A/N: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! Okay, funny story, I was brainstorming with @taestefully-in-luv while I was working on this chapter and she had a suggestion that she was so excited about! Unfortunately she couldn’t put it into words, and we weren’t getting anywhere! So she went, “Okay, let me play around on this one…” After about an hour (yes exactly 1 hour!), she sent me two long a$s messages that contained most of the conversation you just read here! I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?

#bangtansmauyeondan #bts imagines #35!jungkook #35!jk #thirty five au #thirty five jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst

[goldenempyrean]

Hi Maybe something for, sick reader x Lizzie or Scarlett where reader is sick. It won't admit it Scarlett can't get them to admit they are sick so just plays along until reader almost passes out then Scarlett takes matters into her hands?? Maybe something like that idk 😭

- 🌴

When Im With You

Hey, hey! Another Scarlett fic done :) I was kinda stuck for ideas at first so hopefully you enjoy :D

Summary: You’ve got a packed but schedule you’re feeling sick, luckily for you, your fiancé knows you better then you thought.

Wordcount: 986

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“You sure you’re gonna be alright to do this?” She placed a comforting hand on your thigh as the driver of the car sat down behind the wheel and started the engine.

You nodded, “It's just a small headache, baby, I’ll be fine.” You weren't fine, you’d felt awful since last night but it wasn’t as if you could just say that. What would it have achieved anyway? Your schedule was packed for the week, mentioning it would only cause Scarlett to worry and you didn’t want that.

There was just so much to do, today for example, both yourself and Scarlett had already attended a conference regarding marketing for the current film you were shooting and now you’d just finished a fan meet-and-greet. You did admit, it was fun, the pair of you always loved meeting your fans but still you couldn’t help but feel exhausted by the end.

 

You were currently on the way down to an interview and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you weren't dreading it. You felt yourself sigh as you stared out, watching the traffic go by letting your face rest against the cool glass of the window. It was almost relaxing, well, until you felt that knowing tingle in the bridge of your nose.

“Hh’Tsshh!” You stifled your sneeze, giving a painful whine afterwards, the action causing a surge of pressure to run through your head.

Scarlett frowned, her brows furrowing with worry as she looked over to you. You were rubbing your eyes tiredly, in response, she hesitantly asked, "Darling, you don't seem too well. Are you sure you're okay?”

"It's just a little stuffy in here," you sniffled, scrunching up your nose, "Im okay though."

Scarlett seemed to think for a moment before pressing the small button on her door, allowing the window to open a little.

Your fiancé noticed your small shiver as fresh air flowed through, and even though you were breathing easier, she couldn't help but worry that it might be a double-edged sword, seeing the small goosebumps ripple up your arms. A worried glance came from Scarlett's direction. You hated seeing her worry, especially when that worry was about you. You were about to reassure her that everything was fine, but your body seemed to have other ideas.

"Hhxngtt'shh! Hh'iTshh!" Your body bent forwards with the force of your stifled sneezes, letting out afew damp sniffles afterwards.

"Bless you, babe." Scarlett sighed, giving you a sympathetic look before she leant down to search for something in her bag, "Those really didn’t sound good.”

You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. While sniffing, you brushed the back of your wrist against your nose and you opened your eyes to see Scarlett eventually find what she was after. She extended her hand, holding a small packet of tissues, offering them to you.

You were stuck as you looked at the tissues; you could really use one, but you resisted giving in. However, after Scarlett gave you a pointed look, you gave in.

"Thanks sweetie." You quickly swiped a couple tissues from the packet and gave her a feeble smile before sneezing twice into them a moment later, rubbing your nose against the tissues afterwards.

“Oh darling, that’s not going to be much help. You need blow your nose.” She reached out and rubbed your shoulder as you gave in and blew your nose softly, “That feel better?”

“I suppose so.” You murmured and pulled your cardigan closer around you, trying to hold back a shiver.

Scarlett bit her lip and glanced out the window, “We should be there in an hour or so, you gonna be okay?”

 

You brough the fabric of your shirt up to your face, muffling a yawn into it, “Scarlett Im fine, just really tired.” Leaning sideways, you let your head fall onto her shoulder mumbling something incoherent against her.

“You taking a nap baby?” Scarlett cooed, wrapping her arm around you as you closed your eyes.

You felt yourself more tired, you would’ve fallen asleep as soon as your hit her shoulder but your nose tickled defiantly.

“Hhep’tSHHIEW!” You ducked your head inside your shirt, sneezing loudly into it, “Hh’uptSHHIEW!”

Scarlett gave you a surprised glance before giving you a tender kiss on the head. You were blessed by both her and the driver of the car, as you cuddled up to your fiancée, you yawned once more before losing track of the world as you fell asleep.

Your body jolted awake when the car came to a sudden, abrupt stop. You groaned groggily as Scarlett hushed you. She cupped your face while using her thumb to make circular motions on your cheek. In that tender moment, you realised how much you longed to be held and comforted and how much you didn't want to do this interview.

“I don't want to do this, Scar’” You said as you leaned back from her to cough against your shoulder.

“I know you don’t sweetie.” She sighed, and helped you sit upright, “Look outside.”

For the first time since you’d stopped, you turned to peek outside and recognised your house infront of you, Scarlett sighed “I already knew you wouldn't be up to it.”

Scarlett pull you into a tight hug, “’Mm’ you’re amazing.” You sniffled against her as she rubbed your back.

“Let's get you inside.” Scarlett smiled, as she exited the car to come round to your side and open the door for you. “You gonna be alright?”

You let yourself smile, leaning against her as she walked you to the house, “Im always alright when Im with you.”

#sickfic #snzfic #marvel sickfic #whump #fluffy #marvel snzfic #mcu #femreader #snz #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson x fem!reader #scarlett johansson x sick reader #scarlett johansson x sick!reader #scarlett johansson fluff #scarlett johansson whump #scarlett johansson comfort #scarlett johansson sickfic #scarlett johansson snzfic #scarlett johansson caretaking #avengers whump #avengers sickfic

[tickletorso]

Finding the Fun - RSS 2023 Fic

Hello @of-princes-and-savages I am your Secret Santa and damn was this a labor of love! The flu almost stopped me, but I said "not today infectious demon, I have a gift to complete." So without further ado, I hope you enjoy this kinda angsty, mostly fluffy, with just a hint of smut Rumbelle fic.

I will also post it to Ao3, but probably not until tomorrow and I wanted to make sure I got this to you today. So, feel free to read it below....

Summary: Belle and Rumple are settled in Storybrooke with two year-old Gideon. One night, Belle has a mishap and it inspires the couple to try and bring back the fun into their relationship.

Notes: This is a little bit AU, because after Gideon is turned back into a baby, the family stays in Storybrooke instead of traveling realms. So magic exists and all of the characters' history is the same but I’m glossing over the whole “Rumple needs to break his Dark One curse” thing. Also, I researched it and baby deer walk 7 hours after being born. - That’ll make sense when you read it. 

Finding the Fun

Well, this wasn’t the oddest position Rumple had ever found Belle in.

There was the time in the Dark Castle when he’d found her perched high up on a ladder tugging on the window curtains trying to let light into the room. He’d been about to chide her, because it was called the dark castle for a reason, but she’d lost her balance and fell right into his arms. There were many other “Belle mishaps” (as he liked to call them) to choose from, but the ladder was his favorite. He’d ended up with his arms full of a beautiful woman, the sun shining down on him like a spotlight and she hadn’t looked at him with repulsion. Instead he saw curiosity and kindness in her bright blue eyes. He didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning of his love for her. 

Currently, he was leaning against the doorframe of their son Gideon’s room. The hallway light behind him cast a luminous glow over the scene inside. Belle was fast asleep propped up by the headboard of their two year-old son’s bed. Gideon was cradled in her lap, equally fast asleep, his head resting against her bosom. He could tell even from across the room that Gideon’s breathing was a bit labored, and he could hear the occasional sniffle from what was undoubtedly a stuffy nose. 

Ah, Gideon finally caught a cold from one of the other children at daycare. Well it was bound to happen at some point. An autumn chill had recently swept through Storybrooke and with it inevitably came runny noses and germ-laden hands.

But his beautiful wife comforting their son wasn’t the ‘odd’ part of this tableau. It was what she was wearing. Rumple’s eyes trailed up her legs. They were covered in sheer black stockings and just a peek of a garter belt could be seen high up her thigh. He could just make out a pair of matching panties trimmed in scallop lace before Gideon’s little body hid the rest from view. His gaze continued to drift upward to her top. It was a thin and rather ragged sweatshirt with the words Storybrooke Library stamped upon it. It even looked like she’d done her makeup more than usual. Her eyes were darkly lined with a winged effect and her lips were a luscious merlot color. 

He tried to bite back a chuckle. Belle had sent him out for a bottle of wine and there had been a wicked gleam in her eyes. It appears Belle’s plans for a seduction had been rudely and quite suddenly interrupted by Gideon’s head-cold. 

Rumple gently closed the door and made his way to their bedroom where he was met with more evidence of Belle’s thwarted seduction. Hanging off the side of their bed was a black corset covered in a black scallop lace just matching her panties. The drawers of their dresser were all pulled out with clothing spilling out of them and several items strewn across the floor. The male part of him groaned at the missed opportunity. The rest of him had a good laugh while he cleaned up the room. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Belle stumbled down the hallway like a baby deer fresh from the womb. Her legs had fallen asleep while keeping Gideon propped up on her lap. Poor little Gid had woken up crying and panicked because he couldn’t breathe through his nose. He didn’t understand that it was just a cold, and he kept pointing to his nose crying “no no no.” Once she was able to calm him down they’d sat in the bathroom with the shower steaming to help loosen his stuffed sinuses followed by a small dose of cough medicine. He still hadn’t been able to sleep without Belle propping him up making it easier for him to breathe. Thank gods toddlers don’t care what their moms look like as long they’re there, because Belle looked very different than usual.

The house was already dark so it must be late. It was always disorienting leaving Gideon’s room after sleeping with him. It felt like his room existed outside of time and space; the white noise machine, the complete darkness he needed for sleep (he must get it from Rumple), the cozy warmth of his body when he insists on snuggling until he drifts off. It all effectively shuts out the world. So when Belle tiptoes out the door, it always takes her a long time to orient herself to the sounds, the light, and the cold of the real world. She has absolutely no idea what time it is. It could be tomorrow for all she knows. 

She makes her way into the kitchen trying to quietly make some tea before she puts herself to bed. The feeling is back in her legs because she definitely felt the chair she just knocked into which, of course, clattered to the floor. The sound echoing throughout the first floor of the house. With a great huff she slouched against the kitchen counter. So much for quiet. 

“Well well well. What do we have here?”

Belle jumped with a little shriek turning around to meet the very amused eyes of Rumple. 

“Rumple!” She pressed her hand to her heart, “You scared me.”

He shrugged and swaggered towards her pulling her into his arms. He was dressed for bed in his deep blue silk pajama set with a matching robe. The contrast in their attire was very apparent. Most of Belle’s makeup was rubbed off  and her hair was a frizzy, tangled mess from the shower steam. She looked up to see Rumple biting back an amused smile. The glee on his face made him look like the imp she’d known during their time in the Dark Castle together. Despite her embarrassment, she found her heart chuckling inside of her along with him. It had been a long time since she’d seen him find something funny other than from sinister irony. 

His voice was quiet and laughing when he asked, “Would you like to tell me about your evening?”

“Only if you make me some tea.”

“Deal,” he said, and with a peck on her forehead, left her arms to tend to the kettle. 

Belle picked up the chair from the floor and settled herself into it. She pulled a leg up under herself, and the silky slipperiness of her stockings made her grimace. The stockings weren’t made to withstand a steam bath and restless toddler feet snagging on them. They were designed to carefully encase each leg and then dramatically shown off in a big reveal that raises blood pressure (in addition to other things), maybe a short session of eye-fucking, and then finally are peeled off in favor of more naked activities. 

“I should get changed,” she muttered to herself.

“And deprive me of the sexy sight before me?”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Obviously this was not what I was going for. Gideon woke up with a cold and it all went downhill from there.”

Rumple set the tea tray on the table, and reached for her clasped hands. “I’m sorry sweetheart. Is Gid ok?”

“Yeah he’ll be fine. I think it scared him more than anything.”

Rumple sat across from her still holding her hand. “I suppose you can’t really explain to a two year-old what a head cold is.”

“Not really.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. The situation is just….”

“Funny.” Belle supplied with a smirk. “I know. It is. It really is.” She fiddled with Rumple’s finger while trying to shake off the feelings of disappointment and frustration. With his free hand, Rumple began to fix their tea trying to pour hot water into the teapot without spilling. When Belle noticed his adorable attempt to make tea one-handed she released his fingers and clasped her own together in her lap. 

For two years they’ve been trying to heal together. They are both in individual therapy and in couples therapy. Even little Gideon went to play therapy once per month. Now that he is starting to develop his own sense of self they wanted to make sure Gideon had extra support in case their were residual effects from his time in the Dark Realm and…well, from everything else that had happened to him. Because so much had happened. Sometimes it felt like too much. All of the curses, all of the betrayals, and secrets. There were times early on when Belle couldn’t imagine their little family ever being happy together. 

Now, she sees glimmers of hope everywhere. In the way Rumple holds onto her hand even if he needs it back to make their tea; in the way he packs extra snacks in Gideon’s daycare bag “just in case he’s hungrier than usual;” in the way he tells her every single time he has a craving to misuse magic, and instead they talk together until a non-magical solution can be found. 

So tonight she had wanted to create something special for him  — ok, for them. Not that they hadn’t had sex in the past two years, but this was intended to be different. She wanted to play and have fun. It had been such a long time since they’d just had fun. She thought bringing that playfulness into the bedroom would in turn bring it back into their relationship on a whole. 

Rumple sat her teacup in front of her and she grabbed his hand before he could pull away. He looked up a bit surprised at her earnestness.

“I….” She started. “I….” She sighed. She didn’t know how to say it. How to explain what she had imagined for their night together. The simple explanation was not so simple anymore. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what Dr. Hopper had coached. 

The emotions behind a simple situation make it feel complicated. Un-complicate it by first stating the facts out loud.

Belle’s blue eyes pierced into Rumple’s. He could see her internal fight, but was mystified as to what it was about. His first instinct was to jump into the conversation and try to fix it, but he knew that wasn’t what she needed. He has a penchant for trying to fix everything and anything for the ones he loves. After hundreds of years and lots of therapy he’s finally curbing that instinct. 

You don’t have to fix everything. You just have to be present, listen, and then, if Belle asks for your help, you can work together towards a solution .

Finally Belle blew out a long breath and an even longer stream of words. 

“After Gideon went to bed, I sent you out for a bottle of wine even though we have a full wine cellar. I went to our room, put on makeup like Lacey used to wear, and then started changing into some sexy lingerie that I bought specially for tonight. Then everything with Gideon happened — ” she pulled her hands apart and spread her fingers wide as if she could grab Gideon’s untimely cold from the past and show it to him like a picture book at a children’s story hour. 

Once the facts are stated begin listing your feelings. Don’t go into the cause or the reasons for the feelings. State just the feelings.

“— and I am frustrated, disappointed, annoyed, embarrassed, and exhausted. Ok, I don’t know if ‘exhausted’ is technically a feeling but if it’s not it should be.”

Rumple brought his teacup to his mouth gently blowing over the hot liquid’s surface. A bubble of quiet contemplation settled around the table. He and Belle had been diligently working to keep their family together which meant they lived a sedate and routine-oriented lifestyle. 

“Sweetheart, not that I’m complaining, but may I ask what brought this on?”

Belle groaned internally, because of course that was his response. Any sane person would ask that question. Except most people would say something like ‘why did you suddenly decide to act out a cheesy seduction on a Wednesday night?’ 

Belle fiddled with the tiny handle of her teacup while her mind swirled with words creating half-explanations none of which would make sense to anyone outside of herself. Several times her mouth opened to say something but all she could accomplish was looking pleadingly at Rumple with big pitiful eyes. He grasped her limp hands and held them tight. 

“Belle…is there something -”

“-I’m bored!” She blurted out. 

They blinked at each other both surprised for very different reasons. 

“Oh”

“No, not in that way. Not bored of our relationship. I’m not unhappy. I cannot stress that enough.”

“…ok.” To his credit Rumple’s grip on Belle’s hands didn’t lessen. “But you’re bored.” He stated it like it was one of the many facts of their life together; Gideon doesn’t like peas, Rumple is the Dark One, and Belle is bored. 

“I miss the fun part of our relationship,” and even as Belle said it she winced, because in truth there relationship history wasn’t riddled with lighthearted moments. “I want there to be a ‘fun’ aspect to our relationship.”

“Fun.” Rumple repeated it like it was the first time he’d ever said the word in his life. “Well, I’m not entirely certain what to do about that. Should I do something?”

Belle face glowed with warmth and happiness. The Rumple from only a few years ago would’ve never asked if he ‘should’ do something. He would’ve spent days and weeks plotting and planning without consulting her, and then revealed something ‘fun.’ 

“Let me try to come up with something and if it doesn’t work out then you can take a crack at it.”

“If its any consolation, what you came up with looked like it would’ve been spectacular.” Rumple placed a kiss on her hand and leaned in close, “Parental responsibilities simply got in the way.”

“So much for spontaneity.” Belle leaned in bringing her lips to his intending for a quick kiss, but the forward momentum of her body kept their lips locked together. She opened her mouth ever so slightly and Rumple’s fingers cupped her chin keeping her steady while the tip of his tongue gently caressed and coaxed hers. She exhaled and sank deeper into their kiss enjoying the comforting familiarity of it, and grateful that even after all these years her lips still tingled with excitement when he kissed her. When a natural break from the need to breathe inserted itself, Belle leaned back in her chair feeling cautiously excited about this new endeavor. 

———————————————-

This. Is. So. Horrible.

Belle wished it was physically possible to impale herself on the tiny dessert fork before her. The shiny object was sitting next to a plate of pears gorgeously poached in a spiced red wine reduction, and yet the only thought running through her brain (aside from suicide by fork) was her gratitude that the dessert course had finally arrived. 

Gusteau’s was one of the newer restaurants that popped up in Storybrooke after the Black Fairy had been defeated. A quiet curse-free existence seemed possible for the first time and many of the town’s citizens were investing in their hopes and dreams again. Resulting in many new businesses and restaurants opening their doors. 

Gusteau’s was the prime example of a fine dining experience. Heavy beautifully carved furniture was spaced evenly throughout the restaurant and crisp white linens covered the tables. Each tabletop was adorned with a low vase of roses and a miniature lamp that cast just enough light that one could comfortably gaze upon their dining companion. The room on a whole was swathed in heavy, rich fabrics and carpeted to dampen the foot tread of the wait staff as they hurried from table to kitchen and back again. 

Belle thought, at the time, it was the perfect idea for a fun night out. Gideon was enjoying a play date at the Nolan’s house. Their little boy Neal was a few years older, but he played well with Gideon always making sure to keep their games at a pace suited to a toddler. He had the sweet nature of his namesake and seemed to favor Gideon especially. More importantly, it meant their own house was unoccupied. While preparing for their evening out, Belle had visions of an elegant dinner enjoying sumptuous food and good conversation accompanied by just a tad too much wine. Maybe they would take a stroll in the crisp evening air by the water. She loved the mystery of the sea at night. It was a thrilling contrast, hearing the water churning against the docked boats, but the black night obscuring it from view. Once they were thoroughly chilled to their bones they would warm each other in front of their fireplace finding bliss in the comfort of their own home. 

But now…..

She just wanted to go home, throw on some leggings, and crawl into bed until the morning when they would go retrieve Gid. Hopefully he was having a better night. 

Rumple was twisting the stem of his glass of port between his fingers. They’d both given up trying to keep the conversation from stagnating. It hadn’t occurred to her that after hours of talk therapy they wouldn’t have anything to talk about. They started off the evening talking about Gideon - that was inevitable - and then Rumple’s shop and the library, but once those topics had been exhausted, neither of them knew where to direct the conversation next. They were in each other’s lives every day. There wasn’t much more to say that hadn’t already been said at the breakfast table that morning. And Rumple tried, he really did, but gods help them at one point he even commented on the weather. It’s colder than usual for this time of year…. That was it. It hadn’t even been something substantial about the weather that Belle could verbally latch onto and run with. 

So now she was left staring at her dessert like it was the saddest sight in the world. Resolutely, she picked up her dessert fork and (choosing life) cut into one of the pears. As the warm flavors of cinnamon and nutmeg burst in her mouth, she tried to think of something to say. 

“How is the port?” She reluctantly let the question escape her lips, but before Rumple could answer, a cheerful giggling from the adjacent table captured their attention. 

Squinting, Belle could make out a very young couple, in their teens, not-so-secretly passing a silver flask between them under the table. Each time the girl took a small sip she laughed producing a delightful jingling sound and the boy looked at her like she was the sweetest thing on this earth. They were tucked together at the table experiencing their first foray into ‘adult’ dating and all that it entails  — soft candlelight, fancy food and clothing, and hushed serious tones. But like most teens their natural enthusiasm for being unleashed on the world could’t be tamped down. They awkwardly held hands and fussed with their cutlery as they waited for their next course. They talked just a bit too loud. 

Belle’s mind jolted with memories, but she quickly realized they weren’t her memories. They were Lacey’s. Like a book she read long ago and could only recall small portions of the story, Lacey’s memories were vague and full of feeling more than specifics. However, in this moment, she could recall ‘memories’ of Lacey as a fresh teen going to parties and playing drinking games with her peers. She could feel the thrill of drinking alcohol like an adult. Mostly she remembered laughter. Laughing while a bottle spun round and round between her circle of friends; anticipating the person it would choose for her next kiss. Laughing when she proclaimed “Never have I ever…” and watching her friends sheepishly drink a shot and admitting to some embarrassing deed. Lacey’s nights out as a teen were a strange mixture of vulnerability and….fun. Belle could confidently guess that Rumple’s cursed memories didn’t contain anything like Lacey’s shenanigans, and she was positive he’d never participated in even the simple games children played in Fairytale Land. 

She reached across the table and took the glass of port from Rumple’s fingers. Gaining his attention, he seemed dazed like a schoolboy caught daydreaming during his lessons, Belle took a big breath and smiled at him. It was time to breathe some life back into this half-dead date.

“Let’s get the check and then I want you to come with me, but before you do, I need you to promise me one thing.”

Rumple’s eyebrows raised at that. They tried not to practice in promises. They were still learning their own limitations as a couple and making promises could be dangerous. 

“Belle, sweetheart, are you sure?”

“Trust me. Promise that you’ll keep an open mind.” She tried to infuse her smile with as much assurance as possible. 

“Ok, darling” Belle almost missed the sigh that accompanied it, but she wouldn’t be deterred. This was a situation of her own making and she needed to fix it. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The rush of wind was wonderfully refreshing. It was just what they needed after the heavy warmth of the restaurant. Belle had insisted on walking through town. They could get the car later. Rumple had never been happier to be cold, because it meant Belle was snuggled tight into his side. The small table at which they’d been seated at Gusteau’s made it feel like he was trying to hold a conversation with someone on the opposite side of a football field. No matter how hard he’d tried to keep the flow of conversation going it was inundated with long pauses and stilted answers. It’d been excruciating. He’d felt like he was failing Belle with each course serving more awkward pauses than the last until finally dessert was served with outright silence. 

Another gust of wind blew back the flaps of his coat, and he tugged them closer around him and his beloved Belle. They stood by the harbor looking out into the vast darkness of the sea. Belle was practically molded to him. He buried his face in her thick auburn tresses, once darker and curly they had straightened into waves with age, but it didn’t matter. He loved her no matter what. After all, he had changed too - his hair had been chopped short by his own hand. He was sometimes self-conscious of the change he’d made, but as if she could read his thoughts, at those times Belle would take the opportunity to gently massage his scalp letting her fingers slip and slide through his shorn greying hair. How he loved her. It was the reason he was so panicked about their lackluster evening - she was bored. She wanted to have fun, but honestly Rumple wasn’t sure he was capable of such a thing. His life hadn’t exactly been built on the idea of carefree joy. His parents had abandoned him and, until Belle came along, so had everyone else either by death, circumstance, or outright choice. What did he know about fun?

Belle turned in his arms nuzzling the smooth skin of his jawline which then turned into small kisses and nibbles. The biting cold and Belle’s amorous affection had him fighting for breath. 

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to ‘keep an open mind’?”

Chuckling, Belle murmured, “Not quite.” She pulled back a fraction so she could see his face, “Have you ever heard of Truth or Dare?”

Rumple faltered for a reply. “Uh…yes, it’s some kind of game teenagers in this realm like to play.” He couldn’t keep the perplexed look off his face. 

��Yes!” She hugged him tighter and he could feel her jump up and down a little. “I think we should play it.” His comically stunned face urged her to add, “I’ll even go first.”

“Why. Why do you want to play Truth or Dare? Darling we’re a bit old for such things.”

“Nonsense.” Her prim response was accompanied by a tug on his tie. “I think it’s just what we need.”

At Rumple’s raised eyebrows, she continued, “I think we are talked out. We need something fun to do. And unless you want to suddenly become more social and do a…” she floundered for an example, “a pottery class together or some other group activity, then I think playing some silly games together is just what we need!” 

Rumple still looked unconvinced. 

“Please, Rumple. Try. For me.”

And that was the straw breaking the camel’s back. They both knew he couldn’t deny her this. She never asked for much in their relationship, and how could he say no to a simple game? Even one that was excruciatingly juvenile. A great huff escaped him and after one long exaggerated groan, that made her giggle, he said, “ok ok. But you go first.”

Belle straightened up expectedly. “Ok, ask me!”

With an endearing smile, Rumple muttered, “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth!” 

Rumple moved Belle to his side and kept them walking along the pier. He pursed his lips and swayed his head playing at putting some serious consideration into the devious question he would ask. The question she would have no choice but to answer with complete honesty. Rolling her eyes at the theatrics, Belle waited with bated breath. 

“What is the last lie you told?” 

Belle snapped her head up in surprise. She really should’ve known that the infamous Rumpelstiltskin, wordsmith extraordinaire, would’ve chosen a question meant to disarm her. The look of smug satisfaction on his face made her want to kiss it right off him, but that could wait. 

“Hmmm I don’t lie very often.”

“Well you’re a saint, darling, but try your hardest to think of something.” 

Ignoring his sarcasm, Belle answered, “Last week at Granny’s, Snow and Red were arguing about how often a couple should have sex. I happened to walk in for a cup of tea, and somehow got trapped in the conversation.” At this Rumple snorted and Belle elbowed him in the ribs, “Anyway,” she said pointedly, “Snow was saying that after a couple has children, they’ll be lucky to have sex every few months! She expected me to agree, and well….clearly she and David are going through a dry spell and I didn’t want to make her feel bad…..so I just kind of smiled and didn’t disagree with her.”

“That’s it? A lie of omission?”

“It’s still a lie.”

“Barely.” 

“Oh please, it counts and you, sir,” she pointed a manicured finger at him, “are filled with glee to know that we’re having more sex than the king and queen.”

Rumple chuckled and played at trying to bite her finger. 

“Your turn! Truth or Dare?” The sparkle in Belle’s eyes made playing this ridiculous game worth it. 

 “Dare”

“I dare you……to sneak into Granny’s Diner and leave three hundred and fifty dollars in the tip jar. You mustn’t be seen and you can’t use magic.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“You have to! That’s the game.”

“What makes you think I have that large amount of money on me.”

“…….”

“Ok. I have that amount, but I don’t see why I should give it to — wait. Is it possible Granny is having trouble making rent this month?”

Belle arranged her face into what she hoped was the picture of innocence. “Life is full of possibilities.”

“Uh huh, only you my dearest Belle could take what’s supposed to be a devious game and turn it into a tool for good deeds.”

“It’s a gift.” 

“I only have hundred dollar bills on me. Do you have change?”

“No, but I’m happy to amend the dare from three fifty to four hundred.”

“How flexible of you.”

Belle grinned and grabbed the collar of his coat pulling him down for a kiss designed to leave him breathless. She pressed her body against his and sunk her fingertips into his hair pulling on the short locks. When she let him up for air, she whispered, “Complete your task and, maybe afterwards, I’ll show you just how flexible I can be.”

Without giving him a chance to blink, she pulled away and walked ahead of him. If she hadn’t been wearing such high heels he was certain she’d be skipping. Rumple just stood there reminding himself how to breathe and with a shake of his head thought, So this is what it feels like to know you’re being manipulated and not care in the least.

— - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In the end, the dare was quite easy to accomplish. At that time of night Granny’s only had a few patrons, thankfully the kind that liked to keep to themselves, and the only people working were a short-order cook and Granny herself. The plan had been to wait until Granny went into the back, and then Rumple would quietly walk through the front door, slip the money into the tip jar, and continue out the back door where Belle would be waiting. 

But as Rumple waited just outside the front door for the opportune moment, a giant crash could be heard and Granny went running to the back of the building.Before Rumple could register what was happening, he saw Belle scurrying down the street and Granny in the back yelling something about “damned raccoons.” Knowing it was now or never, Rumple whipped open the door, ran towards the tip jar sitting innocuously next to the cash register, and it wasn’t so much that he stopped at the counter rather that the counter stopped him—his custom-made Italian shoes weren’t made for quick movements on freshly mopped floors. So after slamming into the counter, he hastily shoved the cash into the jar, and hightailed it back out the front door. 

Miraculously, no one saw him. 

He found Belle hiding next to the pharmacy doubled over with snorts of laughter muffled by her hands. Her feet were bare and she was holding onto only one of her shoes. She tried to explain between giant huffs of laughter, but Rumple simply held up a hand and said, “Belle mishap.” Before Belle could ask what that meant, he gathered her in his arms and snapping his fingers *poofed* them back to their house in a cloud of magic. 

Belle was still giggling as they stumbled into their entryway kissing and pawing at each others clothing. Rumple wasn’t one to let other’s emotions effect him, but Belle’s joy swept them up creating an elation he’d never known before. They landed in front of the fireplace which had magically been lit and several fluffy blankets and pillows spread out before it.

Smiling like a fool, Rumple pecked kisses over Belle’s body as more and more skin was revealed to him. Her lingerie was nothing like the black corset ensemble he’d missed out on. Instead she wore a sheer forest green bralette with matching hip hugging panties. It was staggering in its simplicity, highlighting the fairness of her skin and giving her curves freedom to move. He delighted in it; kissing and biting and even tickling the spots he knew were most sensitive. Between breathy laughs Belle managed to divest Rumple of his own clothes, and they took their time reveling in each other.

Their previous lovemaking had been permeated with an intense need to show their love and devotion with their bodies. Trying to make up for all the past hurt by clinging to each other while they physically connected as close as possible for two humans to be. But this time was about joy and happiness. Their was no rush to reach their bliss. It would most certainly come, but this was about loving each other with light not darkness. Belle found a few of Rumple’s ticklish spots and for a moment lovemaking was paused in favor of a naked tickle fight until one of Belle’s legs ended up hooking over Rumple’s shoulder putting them in a delicious position that neither could pass up. With mirth in their eyes, a wordless conversation passed between them about Belle’s promised flexibility. 

They rocked together at a rhythm they both knew so well. The familiarity was far from boring. Instead they loved each other with gratitude as deep as their kisses. They were so lucky to know each other this well and for this long. The happiness on Belle’s face was mirrored by his own. It felt like sunlight surrounded them and clear blue skies were reflected in Belle’s eyes. Rumple realized that this was what fun was - it was turning your face towards the sun even on a cloudy day. It was actively finding joy and laughter, and if you can’t find it, you make it. Just like Belle did. 

Afterwards, they lounged by the fire enjoying lazy kisses and caresses. They teased each other about the horrendous dinner they endured, and Belle told him about Lacey’s memories saving their date night. 

“So what other games does little Lacey remember?”

Belle thought for a moment before ticking off her fingers, “Well there’s Spin the Bottle, Seven Minutes in Heaven, Never Have I Ever-”

“Hmmm group games,” Rumple grumbled.

“We could play Two Truths and A Lie.”

“You would dare play a game that requires deception with words with Rumpelstiltskin?”

“Oh I think I could manage.”

Rumple tutted and pinched her side making Belle squeak, “Ok, but you go first.” 

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle secret santa #rss 2023 #finding the fun #prompt #two truths and a lie

[hebuiltfive]

::makes you a cuppa::

manner minded: [character] remembers their good manners while sick. Parker

It may have taken me a couple of months to get back to answering these prompts, but as promised, I did not forget! Hope you enjoy this one, @janetm74, and, once again, thank you for the asks! These are really fun to write up!

Manner Minded (feat. Parker)

Penelope always had a cup of Fortnum and Mason’s Green Earl Grey tea when she woke, and Parker was always the one who made and served it. Seven thirty sharp (unless a prior arrangement for an earlier wake-up time had been made) in the breakfast room of the Creighton-Ward Manor. In all his years as Penelope’s faithful shadow, combining the roles of chauffeur and bodyguard with those more traditionally domestic titles such as butler and housekeeper, Parker had never once missed a morning tea round.

So, he certainly wasn’t going to allow this stinking cold to get in the way today.

The wake-up had been brutal. His nose was stuffy and his head… ‘Cor blimey, his head felt like multiple high-speed trains were constantly running through it. When he stretched, bones cracked in unusual places and muscles screamed at him to just stay still and don’t move. He knew he was getting old, but did his body really have to make such a big deal over it all?

Parker ignored the wave of dizziness as he finally rolled out of his bed. He knew Her Ladyship wouldn’t mind him taking the morning off but his strong sense of duty had him pressing on. There were things on the agenda that he really should see to. His body, and by extension this cold, would just have to shut up and put up.

Getting dressed proved a marathon. It took him twice as long to get changed out of his pyjamas and into his usual go-to uniform of comfortable black casual wear. His feet were caught up in the legs of his trousers and, despite checking thoroughly after the third attempt, he had managed to put his shirt on the wrong way a total of five times.

By the time he was fit enough to leave his room (though the true meaning of that word ‘fit’ varied heavily today, it seemed), Parker was already exhausted. He cast a glance at his bed, all readily made up and tidied just as he prepared it every morning. Later, he promised himself.

————————————————————————

The breakfast room’s doorframe collided with his shoulder, causing a shooting pain to go straight down his arm. The tray, upon which the tea he had so lovingly crafted not ten minutes earlier, fell to the floor in an almighty crash that had Penelope running out into the hallway.

“Parker? What’s going on?” She asked as she opened the door to the carnage. Her eyes were filled with concern, glancing from her ever-faithful companion to the mess on the floor, and then back again.

“H’it’s fine, m’lady.”

Penelope was at his side in an instant, taking his elbow to guide him into the room. Cautiously, she deposited him on one of the chairs at the table. Sherbet yapped at his feet. Parker tried to tune out the noise.

“Are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to be forced to guess?”

The support the chair offered was a great comfort to Parker, who was currently trying to battle nausea. He felt sweat drip from his brow and catch on his eyelash. With a simple, shaky swipe, he wiped it away. “Just a cold, m’lady.”

“This doesn’t seem like just a cold to me, Parker.”

His blocked nose seemed to tickle and Parker managed to get his handkerchief to his face in time to catch the sneeze. “Sorry, m’lady.”

Sherbet continued his incessant barking, his paws padding at Parker’s legs.

Penelope tutted quietly, bending down to retrieve the pup before it could be of anymore annoyance. “Now, now, there’s no need for apologies.”

“But the rug…” Parker tried to gesture with a pointing finger but found the effort to keep his arm extended for more than a few seconds too tiresome.

“The rug is unimportant. Your health, however… Take the day off, Parker.”

“But, m’lady!”

“There is nothing on the agenda today that can’t be rescheduled.” Penelope crouched so she was eye-level with him. “Go back to bed, Parker. I can clean this all up.”

Once again, he tried to protest, but Penelope simply held up a hand to stop him. 

“No. Bed. Now. There is nothing more important than you resting and recovering. I’ll be up later with some medicine and breakfast.”

Parker knew that tone and he knew better than to try and argue his case. He stood from the seat, and paid no attention to the sway in his step as he slowly left the room. “Yes, m’lady.”

The stained rug he carefully tiptoed over had his cheeks burning up in shame. Never in all his years of service had he made such a mess by accident. He knew what Her Ladyship had said, he knew that she was right in what she said, and yet he still felt a pit in his stomach that wasn’t down to his illness.

He wasn’t aware of the shadow following him as he made his way back to his room, only noticing Sherbet had trailed after him once he’d got himself back under the warmth of the covers. In normal circumstances, the dog was barred from Parker’s quarters, but whether it was because he had no energy left to chastise him or because he actually appreciated company of any sort, Parker made no complaints when the comforting weight of Sherbet settled on his chest and lulled him back to sleep.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #ask game #sickness prompts #five answers #aloysius parker #lady penelope #five fics

[waterfallofspace]

hi!! your d/azai fic was SO GOOD OMGG i kept trying to figure out what was setting him off & i never would’ve guessed M/ORI’S COLOGNE?! brilliant especially since c/huuya bought it for him XD

could i possibly request s/oukoku feat. allergic to dust d/azai (mayhaps with kitten snzs 🥺) and prompts 36, 40, 45, 47, 75? (or whatever you can do 🫶🏻)

Oh my god- hello, thank you!! That's so sweet of you hehehe~~ I'm glad you enjoyed!! And thank you so much for the request, I had so much fun writing this one hehe~ I did try 'stuffy talk' writing for the first time in this, it seemed needed in the context, but I usually try to avoid that, so I hope it doesn't take away from the story too much~ (also I've seen the other two I assume are also from you, and I will be working on those soon too!!) 2.3k words, prompts 36, 40, 45, 47, and 75, story under cut! 36. “Blow your nose, I can’t understand you.”  40. “You’re sneezing everywhere. Clearly, something’s up.”  45. “Your nose is literally twitching.” 47. Hiding sneezes  75. Accidentally inhaling an allergen.  (References to swearing, and mild/playful violence just in case anyone doesn’t like those!)

~~~~~~~

There was always a level of tension between Soukoku, but it had only intensified after Dazai made his escape. Chuuya has never had a ‘forgive and forget’ attitude, not when it comes to him. So when Mori and Fukuzawa decide to team up against a common enemy, Chuuya lets himself believe he’ll only have to cooperate with the detective agency from a distance. 

“Chuuya~! Stop staring off into space. I know I’m the brains of this operation, but you could still attempt to help.” 

Growling in response, Chuuya feels his eyes roll on their own ‘Apparently just as fed up with him as I am-’, thoughts drifting back to the idiot currently attempting to pick a lock. It was his job to get them in the hideout they’d been ordered to investigate. ‘Of course it wouldn’t be from a distance. It could never be that easy, not with this asshole working for them.’ 

Despite the sentiment being entirely in his head, Dazai seems able to hear it, casting a smug smile in Chuuya’s direction. ‘Fucking creepy how he can do that. I know his gift doesn’t let him read minds, but sometimes I wonder…’ 

“We’re not supposed to leave any indication we were here. Blasting down the door wouldn’t exactly be subtle. So this one’s all on you. What, not up for the cha-”

“Got it! Chuuya didn’t really doubt me, did he?”

“Sh- shut up. Let’s just get this over with.”  

Dazai’s posture is infuriatingly calm, a brash contrast to the waves of tension surging through Chuuya’s very being… until they enter the building. Dazai immediately tenses up, fingers flexing at his side as he attempts to feign nonchalance. Normally seeing the mask slip a bit would send shivers of pleasure down Chuuya’s spine, however they were in enemy territory with an assignment to complete. ‘Now is not the time for one of your… things… Dazai. Whatever this is, lock it away.’ 

“You take the papers over there, I’m gonna check for any other rooms, exits, or spaces to hide something. Got it?” 

“My my, quite bossy, aren’t we? You know I love when you get all controlling~.” 

“Ach. Just yell if you find anything useful, alright?”

“Yeahh.” 

On anyone else, it would just be a slip of the tongue. Something not worth noticing, let alone mentioning, but on Dazai? It’s similar to having gunfire rain on you from an unknown source. Chuuya starts to feel hairs on the back of his neck standing up, trained eyes scanning the room for whatever danger might be coming his way. ‘Come on, Dazai. Either sort yourself out, or tell me what’s wrong… This mission needs to go smoothly, if you’re sensing dang-’ 

“hih’ekshh-! hh’gshh-!” 

“You say something?”

“No- hah’kshht-enk’shhiew-! Excuse me, no I didn’t.” 

Chuuya finds his mouth hanging open, Dazai’s nose noticeably pinker than it was a few minutes ago. In the silence, Dazai attempts to busy himself with papers they both know he’s already scanned. ‘Did- did he just…?’

“W- was that a sneeze?” 

“Wow~ great observation skills, Chuuya!” 

Dazai narrowly avoids the kick aimed his way, Chuuya catching his balance with a spin as Dazai smirks at him, letting out a grunt as the next one lands its blow. Taking his turn to smirk now, Chuuya begins his retort. 

“Oh, whatever. Just keep-”

“eh’ntshh-aiyshh’iiee-! N- not done- heH-! eashh’iew-! teshh-en’kshhew-! hh’knshhiie-!” 

“That was pathetic.”

“You know, it’s customary in most places to offer a blessing.” 

“Not here, it ain’t. What’s wrong with you, anyways?”

The question is ignored, Dazai’s eyes snapping back to the papers he’s picked up, mouthing words under his breath too fast for Chuuya to interpret as he breezes through. Electing to ignore the obvious attempts to derail the conversation, Chuuya takes a seat next to the desk, letting his feet rest right on the papers Dazai’s looking through.

“I believe I asked you a question.”

“You only believe you asked? Chuuya must be sli- hehh… slip- slipping- heAh’tezshh-eiiszshh-hh’keshh’iew-!”

“Eh?! For Christ’s sake, just answer the fucking question.”

“‘For Christ’s sake’, that’s quite the western expression, and yet you can’t offer a mere blessing to your… eH’Knshh-tieshhii-! kshh-eishh-hH’knchhiew-! suffering partner?” 

“I’ll ask once more, what’s wrong with you?” 

Dazai’s eyes are still trained on the papers, his face remaining pointedly calm to the untrained eye. Which, Chuuya is not. ‘He’s attempting to relieve the itch without touching his nose. Apparently not as easy as he’d like it to be, judging by the tremor in his hands that he can’t seem to stall.’ 

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Don’t play coy, Dazai. You’re sneezing everywhere. Clearly something’s up.” 

“It’s a perfectly normal action. Everyone sneezes at times, even Chuuya.” 

“Yeah, but not this much. Your nose is literally twitching as we speak.”

“Th- thanks for the re- reminder…. hehH-!”

He manages to pull his collar over his face before the next fit breaks through his quivering nose.

“hNksh-hh’kshhew-! tinshh-enshhiew-! hh’kshh-! heH’tschh’iew-! hahh’kshh’iie-!” 

Chuuya smirks at the way Dazai sniffles with a deep urgency as he attempts to catch his breath. ‘Pathetic is right, those were the tiniest things I’ve ever heard, and they still left him breathless. For someone so tough, he’s really quite frail.’ 

“Yeah, that’s not normal.”

“You really don’t remember? I have a slight… sensitivity to dust.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

His facade long forgotten, Dazai raises a hand to practically scrub his nose raw as he lets a few itchy moans fall out. Chuuya feels a pang in his chest, one that he quickly smothers before it can build into actual sympathy for the idiot.

“You don’t remember- Well I guess it- kshh’iew-!  was a bigger deal for me than you. That time Mori sent us to recover some stolen files from that warehouse that they apparently hadn’t c- clehh… hH’kshh-eishhh’ii-! Cleaned in years?” 

“I do actually, though I seem to remember you ducking away pretty fast after we found them- oh motherfucker, was that because you were holding off an allergy attack?!”

“Yep! Thankfully for that mission I foresaw the possible complication and took some precautions. However, in this case, I wasn’t aware of the… state… this building would be in. hh’kshh’iew-! Nnshh-!” 

Before Chuuya can form a reply, Dazai raises a hand, his face unreadable once more. Chuuya freezes, eyes darting to the hallway behind them as footsteps echo off the walls. ‘Impossible to tell how many there are, it’s too empty in here, the sound is distorted. I’d guess at least five, but it could be more. There’s enough bullets in the drawer I found before to take them out if I can get to-’ His thoughts are interrupted by Dazai’s hand against his arm, nullifying his powers before he can make a move. 

“Remember, we’re not supposed to tip our hand just yet.” 

It’s hushed, but Chuuya hears it perfectly, his focus always irreversibly glued to Dazai when his gift is being subdued. Something Dazai knows full well, and was counting on. He lets his mask slip once more, letting Chuuya read his intentions without a word. ‘We need a plan, and it can’t be violence.’ 

“Fine.” 

‘I noticed a crawlspace when I was surveying the room. It’ll be tight in between the beams, but there’s at least a bit of space vertically. Either way it’s better than getting found. Normally I’d just hide on the ceiling, people so rarely check there, but given Dazai’s here, it's better not to leave him to fend for himself.’

Pressing himself against the floor and sliding through the crack, Chuuya starts to drag Dazai in with him, pausing as the nervous energy radiates off the man.

“Chuuya I don’t thi-” 

“Just shut up and get in, we don’t have time to argue.”

Dazai hesitates once more, tension flooding Chuuya’s body. ‘He’s not one to hesitate. Ever. But we don’t have a choice, it’s this or be caught.’ Finally Dazai lets out a sigh, mask on enough to keep Chuuya calm, but not enough to be comfortable. Chuuya braces himself against the floor with his hands as Dazai climbs into the crack, kneeling over him.

“Well this is cozy~.”

“You better keep your mouth shut. If they find us I will end you.” 

The footsteps continue to descend towards the room, finally stopping as smothered voices begin breaking the silence. Chuuya closes his eyes to try and make out the words better, a trick he regrettably learned from Dazai of all people. When one sense is removed from the equation, it can help the others hone in with greater ease.

“Ch- Chuuya…”

His eyes snap open at the breathy quality of the voice. Dazai has his hands pressed against the floor to keep his balance, and even through the muted light Chuuya can see his unattended nose starting to tremble. Dazai’s attempting to rub it against his shoulder, but the soft cloth just seems to be irritating it further.

“Don’t you dare, Dazai.” 

The panic seeps into the whisper before he can stop it, Dazai reacting with a sharp nod, eyes starting to water. Chuuya can feel Dazai’s body trembling as every scraping breath seems to drag more allergens into his tortured nose.

‘Fucking damn it. Even with those pathetic little things, given the echo in this room, they’re sure to hear us if he breaks into a full attack.’ Just as he’s starting to come up with a plan, Chuuya’s body starts moving on its own, gloved hand pinching Dazai’s nose shut just as the first hitch escapes. 

“heH- Wha-” 

“Not. A. Word.” 

Chuuya can feel Dazai’s nose pulsating under his grasp, a few tears freeing themselves from his eyes as he crushes them shut against the building irritation. But finally, after a few painstakingly long minutes, his breathing returns to normal. Chuuya carefully releases his grasp, hand still hovering in front of Dazai’s face. He rolls his eyes at the theatrics, snarling in an attempt to disguise the warmth flooding his ears. 

“Better?”

Dazai starts to nod, sniffling lightly, before intensely shaking his head, nose flaring with a passion. He gets only enough time to lean into Chuuya’s hand, attempting to stifle the fit that breaks loose. Chuuya almost pulls away, but one of Dazai’s hands comes up to grip his wrist, pulling it closer.

“knGt-! nGT-! ihKDt-! hH’AHngT-!”

“G- gross, what the fuck are you do-” 

Realization dawns across Chuuya’s face, chased away by a guilt fueled blush that settles in his cheeks. ‘When sliding in here, I used my hands on the floor. The dust covered floor. I just practically smothered his nose in his allergen. Fuck- this isn’t good…’ Dazai’s eyes are flooding with itchy tears, only getting a chance to inhale when he’s building up to another stifle.

“kndT-! heH- indT-! hH’EnDt-! Ch- Chuuya… hH’NDT’iew-! heAhh- kNgT-!”

“Hold on-” 

Letting his head peak out, Chuuya attempts to scan the room, focus being torn between searching for possibly enemies and- “hHnDT-!” the constant- “nGT-!” stream of- “ihkNdT-!” itchy stifles- “ehdNXt-!” being aimed at- “heH’KxT-!” his gloved hand. ‘I can’t see anyone, and other than the obvious, I’m not hearing anything to suggest we’re not alone.’ 

“Okay, I think it’s safe no-” 

The half-finished confirmation is all Dazai needs, ducking into his shoulder with a fit that seems to only grow in desperation as each tiny sneeze falls out on top of each other. 

“eh’kShh’iee-inchh-eshhh-kechhew-eh’knshhiiee-!”

Pulling himself out of the crawlspace, Chuuya attempts to brush the dust from his clothes, peeling off his glove with a wince before offering a hand to help (yank) Dazai out too. The normally put together man is currently sneezing too rapidly to even acknowledge the change of scenery. He’s attempting to aim for his shoulder, but Chuuya notices he’s fairly unsuccessful, huffing a few blessings between the outpouring. 

“hH’kshh-ensshheww-nnshh-tiesshhie-!” 

“Bless you.” 

“aishhiew-! heHhH-! kezzshhiee-! Ehh’shhiew-!” 

“And again.” 

“hah’kshh-knnsh-nnshhie-!” 

“Going for a record there, Dazai?” 

A smirk has worked its way onto the incredibly itchy looking face as Dazai’s watery eyes flicker up to meet Chuuya’s, a hint of mischief dancing through the waves.

“M- enshh’iew-! Mea- hh’kshh-! nnSh-! eh’knShii-! Mean, Ch- chushh’iew-! heH’kshh-enschh-tezzshh’iew-! Chuuya.”

“Bless you. Don’t try to talk, you moron. It’s making me dizzy.” 

“heH’inGShh’iew-! ddshh’ii-! nnSHh-! heH’kSHHiew-!”

“Christ Dazai. You gonna live?” 

“You dknow tha- heh’KShhiiew-! nndshh’ii-! Thadt wa-”

The congestion in his voice cuts right through Chuuya’s brain, a grimace forming in response.

“Blow your nose, I can’t understand you for shit like this.” 

“And whadt exacdtly do you wandt me dto use? I have dnothing to blow idt ond-” 

Chuuya sighs heavily, hand reaching into a pocket to pull out the handkerchief he keeps there incase of emergencies. ‘I guess this qualifies, though the idea of Dazai’s fluids on more of my clothing makes me feel a little ill.’

As soon as it's in Chuuya's hand, Dazai lunges for it, having the decency to turn away as he releases a handful of throat scraping blows that have Chuuya wincing again. When he speaks again his voice is still hoarse, congestion seeping through the edges, but at least it’s decipherable. 

“Ahem. Like I was saying, you know that was entirely your fault, right?” 

“It’s not my fault you have such a weak nose.” 

“hH’enkshh-! nndshh’iew-! innShh’ii-! mmShhiew-! I think it heard you.” 

Rolling his eyes, Chuuya throws a punch at Dazai’s arm, a touch of guilt invading his mind when the blow lands easily, Dazai hissing lightly through clenched teeth. ‘Apparently still too out of it to dodge.’ He feels heat drip into his cheeks once more, quickly quelled as Dazai’s mischief soaked eyes meet his own.

“I think you owe me a drink.” 

“Whatever. But you owe me a new handkerchief, and gloves.” 

Dazai brings said handkerchief back up to his nose to crush a few leftover sneezes, a smug smile forming on his face, despite the battered state of his sinuses. 

“hh’mmshh’iew-! eh’mmshhii-! heh’nnSHh-nnshh-heH’keshh’iew-! Deal.” 

No, Chuuya’s not one to ‘forgive and forget’. Things will never be the way they were. But as Dazai silently leans against him to steady himself while they walk out of the building, Chuuya’s hands automatically coming to brace him, he lets himself consider that maybe, just maybe, that’s okay. 

Maybe they can be something else. Something better. 

#waterfallasks #waterfallwrites #ahhhh~ thank you so much for the request!! i love writing these guys #hopefully anyone who sees this enjoys #and thank you so much for reading like always!! #b/sd #snz #snzkink #s/oukoku #c/huuya #d/azai